


My Place Is With You

by midraindecember



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Long running, Lotor Redemption, M/M, Multiple Realities, Post-Season 4, Purple, White Lion - Freeform, acxa siblings, allura actually uses her powers, broganes, clone shiro - Freeform, denial lance, flirty but insecure keith, klance sword training, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-27 07:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 39,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13875852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midraindecember/pseuds/midraindecember
Summary: Keith is confronted about his attempted sacrifice, Allura wields new powers to take down the Galra from the inside. The past is unraveled to only reveal more mysteries, leaving a few stranded in faraway places to grow apart before they can all come together.





	1. Uncertainty

**Author's Note:**

> this story will be heavily inspired by the events of season 5 so beware,, Also I've now added songs to each chapter! They correlate to the mood and even have themes similar to character feelings / events so its essentially the playlist for the story ,, I thought it would b fun and I get to give song recs so win win

###### Meet Me in the Hallway - Harry Styles

_We're not gonna make it!_

Keith vividly remembered Lance's words, always stuck in an endless loop inside his head, the last words Keith would've ever heard him say. To listen to him so hopeless made Keith's heart stumble blind, a feeling reaching into an endless dark but finding no purchase. And to think that he had not been with the paladins all because of his own ambitions, because he was struggling so hard to find a place where he felt he fit, and in that quest, he'd left behind the very people who'd done everything they could to make him feel what it was to have a home. 

Now Keith would have Lance's back, he'd have all of their backs, he had thought, even if it cost him everything he'd worked so hard for. He'd already lost the Red Lion, but if he lost his team, too. . . Just losing Shiro had almost made him lose his mind, he couldn't bear the thought of losing anybody else. After his real family had failed him, he wasn't going to lose his new one. He did not want to live in a world they were not.

He'd surged the Galra ship forward, a ship that was partly his but was also another place he did not belong and recognized that he was prepared to die. And he did not mind.

Squeezing his eyes shut as if he could blot out the massive Galra ship and his impulsive decision, and all of the mistakes and cruel words he'd spoken in anger and haste, all he could see in the blaring red behind his eyelids, like a flashlight put against a fingertip, were the faces of all the people he would leave behind. Was it selfishness that allowed himself to keep going, or was it courage? Who was to say? 

_You're not the only one hurting. We're all right there with you._

He heard Lance's voice, how his words had somehow made him feel. . . less alone.

And then the world exploded.

He'd reigned the ship in, the response purely stimuli and irrepressible, as the thing he had been about to give his life for was impaled. Obliterated.

By _Lotor._

After all that, he hadn't even. . . been able to save them. . .

In his heart, Keith distinctly recalled feeling shame.

"Keith?" He heard Lance's voice pull him out of his trance.

"Hm?"

"Were you even listening?" Lance groaned from his seat in the room they'd all taken to having discussions in on the ship. The ship they'd thought of as home for months now, and the ship Keith rarely ever found himself inside of. "This is kind of important, you know."

"Hey, Keith," Hunk piped up. "What if Lotor is your dad?" All eyes fell on him.

"What?" Keith said.

"Or maybe a brother? A long-lost sibling, perhaps." The room fell silent.

"Anyways," Lance said. "I say as soon as Lotor boards the ship, we trap him with a net gun—"

Pidge scoffed. "A net gun?"

"Yeah, like in the cartoons? And then while he's down I'll—"

Keith interrupted, "I thought you said this was important."

"Excuse me, but I wasn't finished," Lance continued in his ridiculous plan, and everyone listened intently to humor him.

"Whatever you guys decide to do," Keith said once the team had come to a stopping point. "You can't trust Lotor. He's an enemy and always has been, just because he helped you out this once doesn't mean anything." _Just because he saved you and I couldn't._

" _You?_ " Lance said. "You're a part of this decision, too." Keith looked away. He supposed he was right. The big mission was over, and the Blade of Marmora would be waiting to hear the Paladins' decision. Shiro led the team into another group dispute, throwing all their contradicting ideas around until they found the best course of action. Keith could barely listen to their words, eyes focused on the ground. He felt like an outcast, all the paladins of Voltron sitting on the couches together while he stood in the background like an old dog that wouldn't stop showing up at their doorstep. What was he to them, anyway?

After failing to catch any more of the conversation, he silently slipped out of the room and headed to the training area, figuring no one would follow or even notice his absence. It had been a long time since Keith had been in there at all, and the longing for something he could not have was sickening. Although he had been in the same room as them, although they once again walked the same pathways, they all still felt light-years away. 

He booted up the training bot, the one he'd used at what seemed like years ago. Habitually, he went to discard his jacket, but then remembered he was wearing his Blade Armor. Keith shook his head as if he could rid himself of the memories and readied his Blade of Marmora sword in place of his bayard. How much time went by, he didn't know. He did not know how much time had passed between when he thought of this place as a home and now.

"Hey, man?" Lance called from behind him. Keith stopped, retracting his blade, panting from the exertion and the physical release that had effectively cleared his mind.

"End training sequence." He stood up straighter and looked over to see Lance in his gray t-shirt leaning up against the door frame, arms folded across his chest. He was surprised to find Lance was the one who had deigned to seek him out, but perhaps the burden had been placed on him again by the other Paladins like they were taking turns over which parent had to wake up in the middle of the night to keep the baby from crying.  "What is it?"

"Why'd you leave back there?" He asked. Keith shrugged indifferently.

"I didn't have anything to say."

"Keith," Lance's eyebrows upturned, the way they did when he was concerned. Or flirting. He'd seen Lance do it enough to know. "You're still part of team Voltron. You know that, right?"

"No," Keith said, turning away from him, not being able to face Lance, a boy that represented the truth he'd been struggling to face. "I'm not a part of team Voltron. I have claim to none of the lions."

"Hey, that's not true," He heard Lance lean off the wall and come towards him. Keith was still breathing heavily from the training, sweat running down his temple. "Red talks about you all the time. He says good things, most of the time." Keith kept his eyes downturned. "If this relationship is going to work, we have to agree on partial custody." Finally, he looked at Lance, who had a slight quirk to his lip.

"What?" Lance chuckled.

"But seriously," He said. "Whatever you want to call it, team Voltron, team Space Boys, team _Lance_ ," He nudged Keith with his elbow and gave his most brilliant smile to try and sell the name. "Either way, you're a part of us. You're a part of _this."_ He said. Keith searched his eyes, the all too familiar shining dark blue, overflowing with sincerity, and. . .

Lance used to only be tender to him when he was beaten down, too exhausted to continue to act like he hated Keith, but now he stood in front of him with full health and a full conscience, yet he had still come to search for him. Maybe Lance had just been maturing quicker in his absence, a boy growing up with no one to exchange childish banter with anymore. Or had the burden of this war finally honed him? Did he feel it weighing on his shoulders as Keith did, like Atlas holding up the sky? 

Keith's heart continued racing despite his body's stagnancy.

"Yeah," Keith said, breathing a small sigh and succumbing to his emotions. "I know you're right. It's just hard to feel it sometimes. That I'm important."

"What are you talking about?" Lance said, sounding a lot like something Keith had said to him not so long ago. "You're not just important, you're a necessity. We need you, Keith." When the room fell silent, he continued. "I—I need you." He put his hand on Keith's shoulder, so gently, he swore he could feel the warmth even through his armor. "Who else is going to force me to do better? I can't have you one-upping me. Making fun of Hunk is no fun, he just gets upset and asks where he went wrong." Lance gave him a small smile, and Keith, much to his own dismay, found himself smiling back. How odd it was to find the two of them there, chatting easily as if they were childhood friends, as if there was never a time that they did not know each other. 

"I guess that just means I'll have to keep being better than you." Lance huffed, unconvinced. "Plus, if anything, it'd be Team Keith." He switched the conversation to something more lighthearted, something easier for Keith to stomach. The rarity of the exchange would be enough to keep him up at night.

He scoffed, "You wish."

* * *

 

The team set ship towards a meeting place to reunite with the rebel fighters where Pidge and Matt shared a fist bump and an excited conversation about the "epic fight." After Pidge and Hunk got wrapped up in chat and Matt spotted Keith talking to a few of the other recruits, Matt detached himself to approach him.

"Hey, Keith? Could I talk to you?" Matt said, smiling tentatively.

Keith replied warily. "Uh, yeah, sure." They walked into another room away from the front of the ship.

"I just wanted to say. . ." Matt's eyes searched the room nervously before resting on Keith's. "About that battle. Without you, we wouldn't have won. We wouldn't have even had a chance. Because of you, we have that chance, at a real future. Whether in that future you want to rule your own planet or just go back home. . . Either way, I want you to see that future and I want. . . I want you to hold on to it. To cherish it, and to stop at nothing to get there." Keith tore his eyes away from Matt's. They'd never really talked like this, and he felt vulnerable knowing Matt was there for such a heavy moment in his life, a shared secret. "That's what I did, at least. And look, I'm halfway there!" Matt smiled and looked in Pidge's direction. "It's important to keep sight of what you really want. I hope you can find that, and see that there are people that really want. . . well, you." He chuckled.

Anyway," He wrapped up. "If you ever want to talk, I'm here, but I'm sure there are other people too. Just remember there's always somebody." He began walking away, but Keith couldn't stifle his next words.

"Don't tell anyone." He was clenching his fists so hard they shook, the leather of his gloves chafing against itself. He gave Matt a sideways look, enough to see him nod shortly and glide out of the room, leaving him alone in his thoughts.

What _did_ Keith want? Where was his future? To discover his parents, to lead to him discovering himself and his place in the universe, and. . . to be discovered. He realized he did not want to tread the self-realization path alone, but he had pushed everyone away. . .

Who was left for him? If he died, who would weep for his body? Who would they send a coffin home to? 

Keith let out a breath and felt it come out shaky and unstable. He began to retreat to the inner workings of the ship, to be alone and to try and sort through these feelings where no one could see him. Alone to brood and wallow, to think and turn over every inch of the encounter until he would convince himself he should never speak again, and alone. Always alone.

"Keith?" He jerked, shaken out of his self-absorption to see Lance lean out of a pocket of shadow on the wall.

"Lance? What are you doing?" His arms dangled by his sides, his brown hair plastered in its little strands around his forehead from wearing the helmet that was now tucked securely under his arm. It was still strange seeing Lance in Keith's red instead of blue, almost like he'd lent Lance his favorite jacket, but Keith was in the Blade of Marmora getup, and he imagined that was a lot stranger. To not look like a paladin at all.

"Well," He looked away from Keith, almost. . . bashfully. "Hunk and Pidge were talking smart, and Shiro and Allura were being all diplomatic and I didn't really know where I fit myself in the mix, and I realized you weren't in there, so. . ." He scratched the back of his head.

"You came to look for me?" Keith blinked in surprise.

"Yeah, but only to tell you if I have to suffer through it then so do you!" He hmphed, crossing his arms over his chest. Keith chuckled, earning a sideways grin from Lance as he peaked around his pout.

"Maybe _you_ should've been loner Lance," A smile spread across Lance's face, a sun coming over a horizon.

"Man, Hunk was right, Galra Keith is better than regular Keith." Lance's eyes widened briefly, as if surprised by his own words, yet it was too late to take them back. 

"Well, I am funnier than you," Keith flicked his wrist, putting out his hand in a laid back gesture.

"What!" Lance shouted, incredulous, balling his fists and rocking on his heels animatedly. "Oh, you wish, emo boy." Keith gave him a teasing grin until he saw Lance's face fall and his voice take on a more serious tone. "About that. . . What was Matt talking about?" Keith stiffened, all hopes of wrapping himself in Lance's easy bubble of jokes and teases vanishing.

"I. . ." He struggled to think of an explanation that would spare himself from the truth, but he did not want to be anything but truthful with Lance. "I tried to sacrifice myself. To take down the barrier." He wanted to shy away from the confession, but he forced himself to look Lance in the face and take whatever reprimand he had coming his way, bracing himself for it. 

Lance's face fell. He stared at him, opened mouthed, wide-eyed. The expression was a harder blow than anything Lance could have possibly said, and Keith felt it like a slap across the face.

Except he didn't speak.

Lance crossed the distance between them in just three long-legged strides, letting his helmet fall to the floor. Before he knew it, Keith's body was tugged to Lance's, whose arms wrapped around his neck. Keith felt all the air in his body dissipate into the air in between them.

"I—"

"Don't you even think about leaving me, Keith," Once his initial shock subsided, where he'd stood like a fish out of water, Keith released the tension in his body and slowly let his head fall onto Lance's shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel his hair grazing Lance's, could feel the weight of their plated chests heavily pressed together, the strength in Lance's embrace, keeping Keith and everything that had felt so broken firmly gripped together. "I don't care if your mom or your uncle or your pet turtle left you, I'm not going to do that. None of us are. So you can't leave us, either." Keith's arms had been by his sides, but he lifted them, gradually, to encircle Lance's waist.

"Thank you," Keith whispered. "Lance." They stood there for a moment, alone in the embrace.

Lance broke it, "Why is it you're always sweaty?" Keith's eyes opened and he shoved Lance away, gripping his own upper arms as if he could shield himself from the intimacy. "What? I'm just saying, last time I put my hand on you, you were soaked."

"I had been training!" He protested.

"Aw, Keith," Lance flashed a glittering smile. "Are you just nervous around me?" He doted. Keith felt his cheeks heat up, and he tried to tilt his head down so his hair would cover it up, but Lance undoubtedly caught the movement. He smiled—a real one—yet still somehow equally as charming. "So I _do_ still have it," Lance said breathily, enchanted, slightly surprised but not visibly displeased.

"The only thing you have is a constant tendency to get on my nerves," Keith grumbled defensively.

"I think you mean a charming tendency to . . . to _not_ get on your nerves. Quite the opposite, actually." He lifted his chin defiantly. Keith kept pouting and shouldered past Lance.

"You wish," He recited. Even as he escaped the room and Lance's strange allure, even when he was alone in his bedroom and the day dragged into night, even though there was a war raging and there were future battles to be braved, he would still find himself smiling.


	2. Mercy

###### Seven Devils - Florence + The Machine

_I think it is time we had a discussion._

Allura found herself pacing, insecurities plaguing her normally rational and calculating mind. What if she couldn't do it? What if she could not live up to her father's legacy?

She inspected herself in the mirror. Looking back were lined, strained eyes and a body tense with concentration. Of course, she would not be useless if she could not perform the transformation magic to her satisfaction, she would always have a place here, but it was more about her place as her father's daughter than it was about her place as a paladin of Voltron.

Slowly, her face changed. Where her jaw was soft and round, she became hard and sharp, cutting like the faces of a precious stone. Her brown skin faded and blurred until a new purple sheen shone.

Long white hair spilled behind her and Allura swallowed as she looked at herself in the mirror to see Lotor, prince of the Galra, looking back at her. Squaring her shoulders, Allura willed herself to accept the appearance and hold the image in place. She waved into the mirror, and it was Lotor who waved back.

"Princess?" Startled, Allura's transformation dropped and she was once again herself. She felt as if she had been caught doing something naughty, one hand trapped in the dessert jar.

"Coran!" She said. "I, um. . ."

"Please don't give me nightmares of Lotor staring at himself in the mirror," He said. "I don't quite like that mental image." 

"I apologize, I've just been trying to practice more."

"You're getting to be pretty skilled, princess. However, if you want a real challenge, you'll have to try to be me. This level of perfection is something that can only be achieved once." He twirled his mustache and Allura smiled. "Alfor would be so proud of how far you've come." He looked at her warmly. Despite just walking in on her while she glamoured herself as the enemy, Coran was supportive as always.

"I fear I may never be as good as him, but I must try."

"I'm positive you can surpass him, Princess," He said with great faith. "I must ask, though, why that particular fellow?" Allura averted her gaze.

"I may have an idea."

* * *

 

Allura and Coran gathered in a conference room with the rest of the Paladins, and in front of her sat none other than Prince Lotor. He looked far too at ease for Allura's liking, but she very well could not tell him to look more afraid or at least tense. The meeting had been arranged with little diplomacy since Lotor was not a man to do things using conventional methods, and the Blade of Marmora had not lent any aid in the matter and refused to consider an alliance with Lotor at all, so the Paladins were on their own. Lance sat the farthest away from him, arms crossed over his chest, expressing his clear displeasure in the circumstances.

Matt stood behind Lotor and kept a close watch on his movements.

"Lotor," Shiro said from his place beside her.

"Shiro," Lotor addressed. His hands were bound to the seat and the seat bolted to the floor. "Princess Allura. I have requested your audience today to bring you information that will aid both of us in the fight against Zarkon. Though you may not believe us to be proper allies, you can believe me an enemy of the empire. I have done nothing but undermine and double-cross them, and look where it has gotten me." Allura remembered what Keith had said, back when they were all together.

"That doesn't mean you still can't turn on us," Shiro said.

"You're correct, I could, but something tells me in my position I would not get very far." He made a gesture to move his hands but was met with the clanking of iron restraints. "Zarkon's subordinates waver. Though they were once united under him, his temporary absence created uncertainty and decreased morale."

He did not call attention to the fact it had been during his own shoddy rulership that loyalty fell apart. "It is only a matter of time before the Galra rise up and challenge his authority. However, Zarkon will crush them before they even have a chance. We cannot allow that to happen." Only Lotor could talk as a prisoner yet sound as the captor.

"So what you're saying is," Lance interrupted. "We should help Galra take over the Galra? Yeah, I'm not buying it."

"I'm with Lance," Pidge said, pushing up her glasses. "What if they actually did succeed in taking Zarkon's place? We'd just be replacing an old enemy with a new one."

"That is true, of course, I was not finished yet," Lotor said, not without irritation. "The best way to take down my father's empire is from the inside."

Lance said, "Yeah, you said that already—" 

"No, you're not listening." Lotor interrupted, causing Lance to almost growl in return. "I mean, quite literally, inside. We infiltrate Zarkon's ship and take it down right under his nose and we will be there, ready to take his place."

"Yeah," Lance scoffed. "Good idea, and while we're at it let's bring the lions there, too." Shiro held his hand up to silence Lance.

"Stop, he could be onto something."

 _"What?"_ Lance and Pidge said in unison.

"If Lotor was on our side, he could lead a rebellion from inside his own base."

"Except we don't _trust_ Lotor? Has everybody forgotten that?" Lance says indignantly. Shiro glares at him.

"If you're not going to be rational about this, Lance, then stay out of it. We need to consider all courses of action." Lance looked like he'd been slapped and turned away from the chastise, shutting his mouth.

"Uh, I think I have to agree with Lance on this one," Hunk spoke. "Lotor may not exactly be on Zarkon's side, but we can't expect him to stay on our side either. He is, like, the prince and all."

"Please," Lotor said. "Cease speaking about me like I'm not present." Lance looked like he wanted to retort but let it drop.

A soft hand fell onto Allura's shoulder, and Coran looked at her expectantly. They'd both had the same idea.

Allura took a deep breath and went in head first, "I think I may have a solution." All eyes fell on her.

"Well, what is it?" Shiro said. With a concentrated effort and a gathering of strength, Allura brought up her glamour. Her hair was currently up in a bun, but the team still easily recognized what she had done. Lotor concealed his blanch but still stared at her, wide-eyed, not in fright but. . . Impression?

Lance stood up abruptly from his chair. "Princess?" He sounded nearly afraid.

She disregarded him. "The issue in this dispute is trust. If I go onto the ship and pose as Lotor, I know I can do this for us." Lance looked more worried than skeptical, but he did not speak.

"Allura, you can't be serious," Pidge said. "Just because Lotor is Zarkon's son doesn't mean he'd welcome him on board with open arms. He's an enemy of the empire the same as we are."

"Pidge is right," Shiro said. "If you go on that ship, he may very well just kill you. I know it worked that one time, but that was different." Allura felt a creeping fear seep into her, but she had to trust that Zarkon would hold even a little mercy for his only son. To depend on the humanity of a corrupted emperor for her life was not the wisest, to say the least, but it was in her nature to see the best in people, and she desperately wanted to believe that this was possible. They had failed to take Zarkon down once and she did not want to fail again.

"I have already considered that," Lotor said warily, eyeing Allura as she had probably hindered some plan of his. "I have reason to believe I can prove myself valuable to them. We give them something we want in exchange for something you want," He said.

"And what exactly is that?" Shiro asked.

"You hand me to the Galra," He said, and the look that spread across his face was cool confidence. "And the Galra give you Professor Holt."

* * *

 

The plan was set in motion. Zarkon had shown Pidge and Matt that he truly did have their father, just as Lotor had said. They would trade the prisoners at a set place and the day was set to as soon as possible since Pidge would have no less, and on the day the two enemies were to meet, Allura set out to find Shiro. She needed to be sure he would lead the other Paladins while she was away, but mostly she just needed a friend. Talking to Coran was fulfilling, of course, but in a different kind of way.

"Allura, what if we need to form Voltron?" He asked. They were standing side by side at the head of the ship, looking into space as they approached the rendezvous planet. It was a dark, dusty and rocky thing that loomed like a bad omen.

And she was terrified.

"Keith. He can take my spot, should he agree." Shiro nodded shortly. Keith had been gone a few days by now, back to regroup with the Blade of Marmora. He had returned to the Castle of Lions after the mission had been completed and she knew all of the Paladins treasured the two quintents they had all been able to spend together, reminiscent of different times. "Um, Shiro?" She broached.

"What is it?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Do you truly believe this is the correct choice?"

"I approved it, so, yes," He said remotely, not returning her looks. It was not the response she had been hoping for.

"I'm aware of that, but, I am merely having some doubts—"

"Save them. It's too late to doubt now. You can't back out of this." Allura took a step away from Shiro.

"And why not?" She felt like a child being reprimanded. Of course, she would not back down now, but it was hardly his place to tell her so. Finally, he looked at her and she found his eyes were distantly cold.

"There's a lot riding on this, Allura. You gave your word and I expect you to go through with it. All of us do. Don't be selfish at a time like this." Allura made an involuntary sound.

"Shiro, you're being inconsiderate," Her voice came out smaller than she'd intended. She had come to Shiro for reassurance, not instruction. He looked more confused at the accusation than taken aback.

"Inconsiderate?" He said the word like he did not know it's meaning, but his gaze did soften—if only a fraction. "I'm only trying to be honest, Allura. Somebody has to be. Right?" Allura let her face fall away, unable to look at him any longer and turned to leave.

"Yes," She said, though she said it reserved and without feeling. Even though Shiro was right next to her, he felt very, very far away. "Yes, you're right." And she left him there, alone.

* * *

 

It was like walking straight into a dust storm. The wind swirled in miniature tornados in every direction, chaotic in nature. Each Paladin landed their lion on the hard rock of the unknown planet: green, yellow, red and finally blue. Shiro, Coran, and Lotor had stayed with the Castle of Lions to oversee the meeting from afar and to not risk any of them getting caught in one of Zarkon's traps. It could be said that he no longer wanted Shiro, only Lotor, but they would take no chances. They needed Lotor for inside information, not that they hadn't already pried everything they could out of him, but perhaps he could be used for bargaining later.

Allura stepped off the blue lion in Lotor's armor. It felt strange and uncomfortable, but she was both figuratively and literally putting herself in someone else's shoes, and she had to play the part.

"Allura, I never thought I'd say this," Lance said, standing beside her. The dust rapped against his helmet's shield in hard, angry bursts. He was in the red armor still, even though he had never really needed to change it. "But I hate this new look of yours." She wore Lotor's skin like a latex suit, form-fitting and hard to walk in. "I'd avoid mirrors if I were you." Hunk was the only one who still had the optimism to laugh, although uneasily.

The others formed a line next to her, Allura's hands bound by a rope that could be easily undone if need be.

The air shifted. A force pushed all the dirt back, blasting hard into the Paladins, but they kept their stance hard and immobile, a force to be reckoned with. She knew that that, too, was a ruse and felt the fear of her teammates like a bitter taste on her tongue. The ship that settled down was simple, one that could easily be taken down by their lions separately if it came to that, but they knew there was a ship big enough to blot out the sky sitting perched somewhere out of the atmosphere. However, their very own ship was playing watchdog out of range, too.

A door lowered and a shape took form. Zarkon stepped onto the earth and Allura felt it shudder.

"Lance?" Pidge said. Matt stood stiffly beside her.

"Yeah?"

"I really wish I would've made that net gun." Figures formed behind Zarkon from inside the ship. "Dad," Pidge whispered, a hope carried on the wind that would ultimately dissipate and disappear.

"Release him." Zarkon's voice bellowed across the land. Allura felt her body seize up, but she urged her feet forward, forward to the Emperor. Forward to a future with the enemy in lies and in espionage. Did her father watch her from afar somewhere? Was he proud of what he saw, or did he turn his cheek? 

In return, an old, wobbly man made his way to their side. When they passed each other, he did not so much as glance at her, maintaining a slow, even stride.

Allura approached Zarkon and felt insubstantial beside his sheer size despite having Lotor's added height, a prey in predator's clothing. What was it Lance was always saying? The Hunter becomes the Hunted?

Sentries grabbed at Allura and kept her arms placed tightly behind her back. From across the way Allura could see Pidge clutching her dad tightly, but he stood still in place. He did not move to embrace her, did not twitch even a muscle. She saw Hunk and Matt, with great effort, pull Pidge away, who looked into her father's face, searching for something. Her countenance revealed that whatever it was, she did not find it.

Pidge turned to focus on them, wild and teary-eyed with a look so full of hate and despair it made Allura's heart clench.

"What did you do to him!" Pidge screamed, a guttural sound. "What did you do to my father!" Hunk and Matt held her back to keep her from rushing to them in fury and trying to kill the Emperor with her own hands.

Nobody on Allura's side moved a hair when Zarkon spoke, a sound that would be lost to all but them: "Now."

Allura felt it before she saw it. An energy filled her, a presence seeped into her bones and settled inside her chest, wrapped around her and gripped. The light was so bright, was so pure Allura fell to her knees as it emanated from the small ship like a beacon, spreading and reaching out towards the Paladins. She could see it, the form it would take if it were to be conformed to a shape or container, and she felt it roaring inside of her, howling:  _yes._

Allura felt her Altean marks glowing before she registered what was wrong. She was no longer Lotor; she must have accidentally dropped the guise while she was distracted. The air pressure had increased tenfold, causing her ears to pop and her own fear had her blood pumping so hard into her heart she thought it would burst like a balloon.

"Foolish girl," Zarkon said, whose eyes never once grazed her.

The Castle of Lions descended like a meteor. The Paladins tried to get as far as they could from its impact zone, but something was holding them down, forcing their faces to the dirt as it crashed onto the earth, cratering the land and a hairline fracture split the world.

"No," She said as if that would make what was happening untrue and begged whoever was listening to save them. "Father," She whispered and saw her dad smiling, a hand outstretched,  _My little Lionheart._

When the energy stopped and the pressure remained, her body paralyzed, she knew that no one was there. Had he turned away? 

From the corner of her vision, she saw a flash of movement. Lotor leaped off the ship and landed in a run, holding nothing other than Shiro's bayard. For a moment she would have thought he was going to attack Zarkon, but he came to a halt in front of him, and Lotor kneeled.

"Father," He said. "Do not blame me for this deception. I had no knowledge of this plan, but here I am, returned to you." He bowed his head deeply and offered the bayard like a sacrifice, and she could see that his hands were shaking. "I am at your mercy."

A decapheeb passed.

"Mercy," Zarkon said. "Is for the weak."

The blow to her head hardly registered, the stun at seeing Lotor on his knees enough to distract her from anything else, and Allura fell mercy to the earth, colliding with it, unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to update a lil early bc I've been waiting all week but helloooo, this story will have rotating point of views back to back between Keith and Allura (so next is keith again) and I'm planning to update weekly but I might do it more often once I finish the first story arc. So far there are three arcs in total but that could be expanded if it's really wanted :-)  
> 


	3. Advocate

###### Only Steps Away - Myka Relocate

_This whole thing is like making a deal with the devil._

Lance's words echoed in Keith's mind as he flew the Galra ship. Why was it always something Lance had said? It was because he talked so much, Keith told himself.

He had called him just three days before, but the memory felt distant yet held very, very close at the same time. Keith had rolled out of bed, wishing sunshine would spill through a pale curtain, but only an automatic night light greeted him along with the incessant buzz of an incoming comm.

He answered, sleepy and half-awake, and Lance appeared on the screen. Immediately, Keith felt aware and alert, his skin tingling with the sudden transition: there was something wrong. Lance would never call Keith like this if there wasn't.

"Keith?" He squinted at the dim light of his room. "I need to talk to you." He sounded hesitant, nervous even.

"Talk," Keith said, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed, draping an arm over his knee.

"Are you sure? I can just call back later if you're busy—" He wasn't even looking into the cam. Obviously, there was an important reason for Lance's calling and he wasn't going to let him back out of it now.

"I'm not busy," He assured. Lance let out a breath.

"Okay," Lance said and turned to focus back on him. He began wondering if his hair was messy and if he would be able to see any remnants of sleep around his eyes. "I'm not supposed to talk about this, but I think you should know. We have Lotor," Lance began. Keith knew this, but it was the last the Blade had heard from the Paladins.

"Right," He followed.

"And we agreed on a plan to work together."

"Work together? That's, uh. . ." The Blade of Marmora had denied the Paladins help with anything pertaining to Lotor and there had been nothing Keith could do to change it. Working together still sounded like a supremely bad idea to Keith, but he was hardly in a place to criticize the decision, nor did he want to bring any more negativity to the probably already bad conclusions Lance was drawing in his head.

"Yeah, that's what I said. I won't go too into detail, but. . . We're meeting someone somewhere. I'm going to send you the coordinates, because. . ." Lance trailed off.

"Because?" Keith urged him to continue.

"Because I have a really bad feeling about this." He admitted. "I feel like everyone is teaming up against me here. This whole thing is like making a deal with the devil. If it goes well, I'll call you back in a few days. If I don't call, well," He paused. "I want you to find us. I know this is a lot to ask, but—"

"No," Keith said. "I'll be there. You can count on me." Lance stared at him for a moment, unsure, before he relaxed, his expression turning grateful and unguarded. To be truthful, Keith had felt afraid, even then. It was like feeling safe one moment, and then someone tells you there's a ghost that lives in the room you're sitting in, and suddenly it feels like it's dropped ten degrees. His father had always told him of ghosts, and Keith knew very intimately the way fear manifests and festers if left untreated.

And oh, did it fester over the days, festered until it burned and the only option was to cut it off at the root.

"Thank you," Lance said softly. "Keith." Lance smiled and regarded him for a second, staring, before ending the call. Afterward, Keith did not go back to sleep.

And now he was here, inside a ship he stole from the Blade, racing towards a planet he didn't even know existed. After all, his impulse control was gone now, no one to talk him out of it or tell him to rethink things. And all because Lance had just. . . asked him to. Because he had to seek the root of the itch, the new laceration.

And he would do it. To hell with the Blade of Marmora, the lives of his friends would always have priority. Even if it meant abandoning the Blade when they needed him most. Keith prominently recalled Lance saying he would not leave or abandon him, and Keith refused to give anything less in return. He had lost Shiro once, and he'd rescued him time and time again after, and he would continue to do so.

He did not have time to ponder the _why_ of the expedition nor any of the endless _what-ifs_ his mind assaulted him with. What if he had stayed? If he had been there, could he have prevented it?

Finally, his answer approaches in the distance: an empty, abandoned planet. Deserted. His radar detected zero life forms, and Keith felt like his own was leaving his body.

"Dammit," He muttered, slamming his fists into his dashboard. He should have gone with them, he should have been there, he should have gone even when Lance told him not to because _damn_ Lance was a jack of all trades minus perception. . .

Keith landed the ship near an enormous crater, an anomaly on the otherwise smooth surfaced planet, crashing startingly hard into the ground. The pressure readings inside the atmosphere were unexplainably fluctuating and the dust obscured most things from view, so he squeezed and locked his ship's thrusters to keep it all going one direction and out of his way.

Putting his armor's mask in place, he scoured the surface desperately, borderline frantic. His skin prickled with goosebumps and his hair stood on end, electrified with fear. It was eerie, as if something that had been very full was now very empty, like walking into a mall after hours. How the hell was he going to find anything on an entire planet? He couldn't even find stuff in his own pocket's half of the time. . .

Useless. He was useless. He would wander the entirety of the universe and he would never find them. Hopelessness threatened to overcome him, gripping his chest in an unforgiving vise. What could he do? He was powerless, a tiny dot on an endless timeline. _Thank you, Keith._ For what? Nothing. Nothing. There was nothing if there was not Lance. There was nothing if there was not his family.

The oxygen inside his suit was running low, and if he dropped his mask the pressure might crush him. He needed to retreat, but he refused to go anywhere without finding something, anything, and he would die on this giant rock before he succumbed to the reality he once again could not save the people he cared for.

Keith looked to the sky and willed it to be, he wished with everything he had that this would not become true.

With his vision darkening, Keith let his head fall to his chest in weakness and exhaustion, and there, beneath his very feet, something was buried deeply in the ground.

Keith fell to his hands and knees and ripped up the earth, clawing it open like a dog until it revealed its buried treasure: the red bayard. Lance's bayard. Keith's bayard. Relief came over him like a wave and he snatched it, the hope held tightly in his hands, and ran back to the ship, his legs moving as if the wind itself was carrying him.

Once inside, he retracted his mask and keeled over, gulping in greedy, full breaths of needed air. The pressure behind his skull began subsiding. He never once let go of the bayard even before he sunk back into the pilot's seat.

Turning the weapon over in his hands, he felt every familiar scratch and chip under his fingertips and he felt the new ones, too, from Lance's use of it. Keith let his eyes fall shut.

The red lion flooded his thoughts. He remembered all of their time together, every bonding moment they'd had, and he remembered Lance taking on his role and thought about how strange it was they were so intertwined.

Keith felt his mind leave his body. It was like astral projection, his body asleep while his mind roamed and flew across the universe. He saw a giant Galra ship, and he saw Red, alone, trapped; Lance, alone, trapped.

_This whole thing is like making a deal with the devil._

If that was the case, Keith would go to hell and he would _drag_ them back home.

In what was only a moment, he knew where Red was. He knew where all of them were.

His eyes flew open. Without hesitation, Keith took off into flight and went full speed ahead into a space that would swallow him whole.


	4. Forged

###### Control - Halsey

_Can people not change?_

Allura mulled this question over. The answer was obvious, of course they could. But the question that should have been asked was, could people be trusted to change?

Her wrists ached. Time was a lost thought when you were a prisoner in a war that did not have the stability to count on a new day to start again because buried in deep space there was no rising star. There was no dawning hope; it was all black and endless void.

The Galra chamber was plain with a purple hue cast over everything, causing Lotor's skin to turn an even deeper tone. His head was slumped to his chest, his body on the slab of what looked to be plain rock, but was undoubtedly full of evil, wicked magic. They were spread out on twin slates, like leather left to tan, their wrists and ankles bound in the corners.

Earlier, she had questioned him, the betrayal. He claimed to have been playing the part to save her life. He said if he had begged for her, Zarkon would have slain her on site. So he had pretended he was her enemy, for both of their sake.

And where were her friends? Convenient he had blacked out at the same point she had. But how had he gotten the black bayard? Simple, he'd said.

He'd asked.

_Is it so hard to believe that I wish to return the Galra empire to a bygone era of peace?_

Yes, it was hard to believe in a peace Allura's 10,000 years had never known. It was hard to trust that people could change. It was a lack of empathy on his part if he could not understand that.

Lotor stirred beside her as the heavy cell door buzzed and clamored open. Allura felt her blood boil in her veins. Haggar strode into the room, heavily robed and hooded, concealing her face. She stopped in front of them before speaking to the sentries outside.

"Let no one disturb us," She commanded.

"Vrepit Sa." The doors shut heavily, sinister. Allura and Lotor stared down at her.

"Lotor," Her voice was like pestle against mortar. "You truly think us fools."

He narrowed his eyes. "If the shoe fits,"

Haggar growled, "You cause us nothing but strife, child,"

"Then kill me," Lotor said, his eyes hard and aglow with resolve. "I'd rather die than become like Zarkon. He's become nothing more than one of the witch's monsters." To Allura's surprise, Haggar turned her face away from him.

"I know of your research."

"Research?"

"You have been searching for Oriande." _Oriande_. She had not heard that name in so long, it would have stirred up melancholy had Allura not remembered that this woman was Altean, turning the kind memory sour. She had finally found another remaining member of her race, yet she wondered if the woman remembered her home planet at all or if all good things had been burned away.

"Oriande," Allura whispered fondly. "It does not exist. It is a myth that died with my people." _My_ people. Allura's. Not hers.

"Ideas exist beyond their creators. The real Oriande is different from your childhood folklore." Haggar raised her head to look at Allura, and she saw her old, worn face and the glowing eyes of a human polluted by the power of quintessence. "Both of you will tell me everything you know of Oriande and the Patrulian Zone."

"We will tell you nothing," Lotor spat. Magic sparked in Haggar's palms, hot static dancing through her fingertips.

"You will tell me everything, _prince and princess._ " And then the magic struck, quicker than any eye could follow, and Lotor yelped in astonished pain.

"You damn witch," He hissed through his teeth.

"How do I enter Oriande?" She asked, the magic still threatening to strike again.

"If I knew, I would be there," Lotor said, panting, his fists clenched in strain. Haggar turned to Allura.

"What do your tales say of it?"

"They say it does not exist," Allura said.

"Then how," Haggar said, so slowly it felt as if time stopped. "have I been there already?" And then her magic shot out again, so quick it was like Allura had combusted from the inside out and it felt like there was lightning inside of her, cleaving her apart—

It stopped. Allura felt herself dry-heaving, her body hollow, dry, a husk.

"Speak," Haggar instructed, a master to its dog. Allura continued gasping but forced her face back up to look at her scarred, cruel face.

"My tales," She felt blood spill from her mouth, and she spat it onto the ground at Haggar's feet, "say Oriande is for _Alteans._ And you are no Altean." She saw Haggar's nostrils flare, the only glimpse of an outward response Allura had ever witnessed.

"You're right, princess," The pressure in the room dropped and a sickening chill crawled up Allura's spine. "I am a witch." And she struck again. This time Allura screamed, the sound coming from a place inside her she'd kept caged, but now it burst free, animalistic. Agony overcame her until she could not see, could not think, could only feel.

"Allura!" Lotor yelled to her through the thick fog. "Don't let it control you! It's _your_ magic, Allura, not hers!" And then Lotor began screaming, too, low and howling.

_It's your magic._

It did feel familiar, but it was the same as meeting a stranger who wore a friend's face. This was Altean magic, but its intentions were malicious, warped as Haggar's heart was. Allura stopped her screaming.

"How," Allura said. "How could you." Hot tears spilled down her face, from the pain but from the anger, too. "How could you use your magic to destroy your own?" It could not be said if Allura meant—contradictorily—Alteans, or if she meant on her own son. She felt her fists clench further at Haggar's dead, empty stare.

The next time the torture magic struck her, Allura warped it again, one last time. She took the magic and reshaped it, formed it herself back to its original intent. She purified it in her own white fire and reforged it.

Magic enveloped her: cool, sure, _hers._ The binds around her wrists fell away, and Allura landed flat on her own two feet. Haggar stumbled backward a step, her palms now empty and they sputtered like a campfire under rain.

The eeriest part was no one came. They must have heard the screams and not batted an eye. _Let no one disturb us, indeed._

"Allura," Lotor whispered. "Your marks." She knew that they were glowing, bright with power.

"You. . ." Haggar coughed. "You stole it. . ."

Allura exploded outward, a hot white light into Haggar's chest and the woman fell backward, clutching at it.

Turning away from her, she faced Lotor who gazed at her in awe, almost reverently.

"No," Allura said and raised her palms to Lotor's chest. "I took back what was rightfully mine." The power flowed out of her, true and honest, into Lotor whose face bore his own Altean marks that illuminated purple when his wrists and ankles were released. He fell to the ground wobbly, crouched for a moment, flexed his fingers, analyzed his own skin and the new power that flowed underneath, and then he looked at Haggar.

Madness. He took the borrowed magic and drove it home, purple arcs soared straight into her, who looked up at him in not fear, but sadness. Regret was prevalent in her drained, colorless eyes when the energy erupted and took Haggar's body with it.

A whisper. "Forgive me, son." Evaporated.

Like calls to like.

It was Allura's magic that killed her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall i put so many dumb references in here so lemme tell:  
> bnha reference ITS YOUR QUIRK TODOROKI NOT HIS  
> carry on (rainbow rowell) inspiration w the lending power thing ,,, baz and simon the power couple  
> haggar's forgive me son i was just thinking ab itachi FORGIVE ME....SASUKE  
> lastly like calls to like is a reference to leigh bardugos grisha trilogy yes that is all gtg


	5. Cover

###### Easy - Son Lux

_How about we just lay low and you don't blow our cover?_

Keith chuckled. Back then, infiltration had not been any of their specialties. Now, it was all Keith did and was trained specifically for it. However, in his experience, getting in always seemed to be a lot easier than getting out.

The inside of the Galra shipment box was small. It was hot and dark, and if he had been allowed to move he would have been constantly feeling his own body to assure himself he was really there.

Quiet, still, slow and steady; these were not Keith's fortés and his legs burned with the sheer anticipation, but he remained motionless. It had been hours of silence inside the box and he had little concept of gravity while confined in it, but he could take zero chances. It was not just his own life that was riding on this.

Slowly, he took out his blade and slashed into the sides, cutting himself an opening. The metal clattered painfully loud to the ground, and he listened for anyone coming to inspect the noise, but it stayed silent. Luckily, the shipment had been one of Galra standard issue guns, so he kept one of those for himself. After stepping out, he was weaving through boxes, crouched, when he caught sight of himself in the gleaming metal of the interior.

His Blade Armor had a unique camouflage ability that helped to blend in with its surroundings, but it wasn't too complex seeing as it took the most occurring color and mimicked it over the entire getup. Keith had had a lot of downtime, to say the least, during the trip to Zarkon's ship, so he'd. . . _tweaked_ the technicalities a bit: he'd tricked certain parts of the armor to camouflage with specific colors, and the end result was something to be marveled at.

He looked like a sentry. Though not perfect, the design was not too complicated, lots of reds and grays with darker shades to give the illusion of shadow. If put under scrutiny, the deception would not hold up, but that was where he had to hold up his end of the facade and not draw attention to himself. He would lay low and he wouldn't blow his cover, as Lance had recommended and as he had dutifully ignored before. He had to smother a grin against the memory.

The Red Lion called to him, a siren echoing in his waking moments but a constant beckon inside his dreamscape. On his stomach, the red bayard was cold yet reassuring. There was no way he was going to leave it behind, and it was the only place in the armor that had any give, and it did make it hard to breathe sometimes but that was a sacrifice he would just have to make. He anticipated the moment he'd be able to hand it over to Lance with a snarky remark, _You forgot this._ His own familial blade was attached securely to his thigh away from view.

Thanking his brief time at the Garrison in classes about algorithms and the computer-like design of the Blade's armor, Keith proceeded straight-backed and determined as an enemy soldier down into the heart of the Galra Empire.

* * *

 

It was not hard to fall into the guarding routine. Twenty paces forward, thirty paces left, forward, left, again and again. It was mindless, and when it was time for the guard to change he had every inch of the floor memorized. While the aberration took place, Keith slipped away into a room that had been empty for hours and was rarely passed by a watchman.

Beakers, tubes and giant pods filled the room, technology and machines Keith could never hope to understand. He locked the door behind him, or at least what he thought was locking it, and began pressing buttons on a dashboard until the machine was brought to life before him. First on his agenda was to find some sort of map, if possible, so he could find any place they might be locked in. 

Keith's heart dropped to his stomach. He lowered his mask to see with his own two eyes: displayed was a photo of Shiro, posed straightforward, sideways, angled from every way like he was going on trial. What were the odds he'd come across information he needed immediately?

Quickly, Keith fanned through the photos until he got to the written logs. He could not read the language, but he recognized the numbers from seeing them so repeatedly throughout his experiences with the Galra, and they dated back to the period when Shiro had been missing.

He went farther back, so far he found. . . practically baby pictures. He was not even a teenager, far before when he'd attended the Garrison, much less been captured on Kerberos, so how. . ?

He continued until he found post-Kerberos Shiro. His hair had been fully black then, no white patch sticking up in the front. The lines under his eyes were prominent, the fear clear on his face. Pictures of his body, his chest, his legs. . . his amputated arm.

Keith couldn't suppress the gag. It was laid out like a body on an autopsy table. He did not let himself dwell and commit the image to memory and flicked past, finding next the Shiro he'd found inside the Garrison quarantine, and finally the Shiro that had disappeared in the black lion and returned in a Galra ship.

Air came in short spurts, he felt like not enough was able to enter his body. He noticed his hands were shaking and dimly registered painful nausea settling in the pit of his stomach.

_Where the hell was Shiro?_

Caught up in his findings and emotions, he had forgotten to also keep an ear on the sounds from the hallway. Beeps sounded, someone inputting a code to get inside, and before he knew it the door was screeching to open. In the haste to disable the computer, he forgot about his mask.

A woman stopped dead in her tracks and stared at him. Her hair was a shade darker blue than her skin, her eyes and ears formed angry points, and her mouth fell open, but the expression looked less like surprise and more like. . . recognition? Keith put his mask back in place, too little too late, and went to reach for a blade that was not there when more people flooded into the room.

 _Dammit,_ sweat poured over his temples. He couldn't fight them physically without drawing everyone else in the area. If it came down to it he'd cut himself a path to his friends, he'd tear down the entire god damn ship if he had to. He would do whatever it took.

Keith stood there, fear cementing his feet in place as he attempted to calculate his next move.

"What are you doing here?" The tallest of the bunch asked, hands on her hips. Her skin was pink and she had a ponytail that almost grazed the floor.

Keith finally found his voice. "I was instructed to clear the area ahead of you," He said and cringed at the unstable, unconvincing sound.

"I'll get him out," A large, built woman said, pink ears that equaled in size to her head twitching. Behind them approached Lotor, and Keith felt his anger flare red and hot when the blue woman spoke for the first time.

"Stand down, Zethrid," She instructed, not taking her eyes off Keith for a single second. Something about her looked familiar, not just in her stance and the way she held herself, but her face, too; in the small, quick expression shifts and the razor-sharp eyes. "I know who it is."

The tall one spoke up again, ignoring his claim completely, lowly rank as he was. "Then why's he in here? This is restricted." Zethrid glared at him and made a gesture with her hands that said she was going to pummel him like he was a piece of raw dough. The tall one narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing, and every armor inconsistency flashed through his mind, and god she was going to notice, he was going to get caught, and—

"What should we do?" She was not addressing the blue woman now, but someone behind her who he assumed was Lotor, but it was not he who answered. After too long a silence, a familiar voice replied.

"You are no longer needed. Acxa, escort him to guard the prison division." The tall one and Zethrid exchanged looks, but Acxa nodded in obedience.

"Yes, Priestess." Acxa glanced at the tall one again with a look he could not quite decipher before moving to walk out of the room and revealed, standing hunched and wrapped in shadows, none other than Haggar.


	6. Monster

###### Running With The Wolves - AURORA

_He's become nothing more than one of the witch's monsters._

The witch.

Lotor had stood over the place where her body had been but was now replaced with only a heap of crumpled robes. His Altean marks dimmed and winked out as if they had never been there at all.

Her throat constricted, Allura coughed and sputtered onto the floor, but there was nothing in her stomach to spill out. A light touch had flitted onto her back.

"This was for the best, Allura," Her lungs struggled to keep up with her heart. "I did her a kindness."

"You. . ." She wiped her mouth. "You killed her." Lotor looked down at her in genuine confusion.

"I did what had to be done. I do not expect you to understand, you did not know her as I did." As he did? She did not understand? Had he been taunting her, or did he truly think her unable to comprehend?

It did not matter now. In a stranger's skin yet again, she wandered the enemy ship as no longer a captive, but a ruler. Haggar was so easy to imitate, it was almost laughable. Very few had ever even seen her face well at all, and the materials had been left to her like a gift. And Allura hated every moment of it.

She glided through the endless hallways like a ghost, and she knew the people saw her yet they didn't _see_ her, glancing over her out of respectful submission, perhaps, but fear more likely. She was a lost soul trapped in a tomb. Everyone was kept at a cool distance, and the last time she had spoken to anyone at all was when they had first left that interrogation room.

The fear had stuck like a lump to a sore throat. "Zarkon has summoned you," A sentry reported mechanically.

"Very well." And she walked past them into the labyrinth as if she had done it a million times. It was nothing compared to some of the passageways and structures they'd once had on Altea, where ceilings reached so high it was like you were not inside a building at all, but every inch of this screamed confinement, order, imprisonment. She was one cross stitch on a very, very large piece and everyone had a specific place. One misplacement and the entire image would be off.

Lotor remained inside the chamber. She herself could not fully say which was worse, to be enclosed inside a place where you had been traumatized, or to wander freely with fear growing like a tumor inside you. Then again, perhaps Lotor had experienced trauma on this entire ship and it would not matter where he went. Had he grown up here? Had he never known Diabazaal at all?

She bit her cheek against the empathy.

Bowing her back so far her eyes faced the floor, Allura waited as the doors to Zarkon's throne room opened without question. There were not exactly directional signs that got her there, but it could be assumed that an emperor would sit at the heart of his ship, all hallways a vein that ultimately led here, and so that is where her feet had taken her. It took everything in her not to run, run to her friends and not have to look this _man_ in the face and feign fealty.

The walk took dobashes. From the entrance to an appropriate distance away, she shuffled her feet in imitation but also heavy foreboding until she ended up in front of him, but a place that still felt like his feet where a slave would have kissed them, poised in a decorative chair. Silence settled, calm before a storm, and when he spoke it erupted.

"Where is Lotor?" His voice echoed through, easily conquering the vastness.

Haggar's voice was not hard to mimic, her throat still raw from her own screams. "He is detained," She replied.

"What have you learned from Alfor's child?" The question's wording stung. Zarkon, once a friend of her fathers. He had betrayed him, had betrayed all of the Paladins of old. And all for Haggar. All for _her_.

She had to choose her next words carefully. If she said something off or repeated something Haggar had said before, Zarkon would catch it. She was walking with the slipperies by pretending to be a woman Zarkon had known for thousands of years. It was almost hopeless, but Allura had to try. Because she had no other choice. Because she needed to.

"Oriande has many different versions, as we know," It took everything to keep her voice steady and clear. "But the girl says you must be chosen to enter." Zarkon folded his hands together. This was not untrue. Allura could not reveal to him the rest of tale, that only Alteans had been known to enter, lest he tried to use Allura to get inside like she knew he would. She had a creeping suspicion that he already knew this, though, and it was possibly the only thing that had kept Allura alive. So what did that mean for the Paladins?

"Perhaps Lotor could breach it if the girl fails," He suggested. Maybe that half hope was all that kept Lotor alive, not the bonds of family, but why could Haggar not reach it herself? Did the quintessence in her truly keep her out?

"Unlikely, but not impossible," she said. "He is only half Altean." Silence followed. Would he use her friends against her? Would he kill them if she refused? Were they even still alive anyways? Twenty ticks, forty, seventy ticks—

"Perhaps we can. . ." He drawled. " _experiment_ before our arrival." _Experiment._ What did that mean? Arrival to where, Oriande? Allura was not sure she wanted to find out.

"I believe he will be more valuable to us in information. He has been searching Oriande for far longer than we." Perhaps she could spare Lotor from whatever heinous plans Zarkon had for him. Lotor was far from a friend, but that did not mean she wished him to suffer for whatever previous wrongdoings.

But could Allura trust him to change?

"I see," Zarkon said ever so slowly. He thrummed his fingers together, and she noticed then the black bayard sitting on his armrest like a toy he'd gotten tired of and discarded. Indignation struck her, to be so arrogant and leave your greatest envy sitting casually strewn by your side. It was Shiro's bayard, no one else's, no matter how many times others stole it. "I will release him temporarily under the conditions that he is guarded at all times and restricted to only the laboratories. If he wants to grovel like a slave he will work as one."

The dismissal was clear. Allura bowed her head in reverence to the man who had destroyed her planet. "Vrepit Sa."

* * *

 

Allura found herself back with Lotor. She dropped her mask when she was inside, a weight falling off her shoulders and sighed.

"Your body is likely exhausted," He said, sitting casually on the floor as if it was his own bedroom, claiming the space as his.

"I hardly need you to tell me that," She said and gave in to the temptation of resting her legs, stretching her back and sitting down. There was little sense of security, but she hoped her luck would hold out just long enough to ease her aches.

"You could probably learn to heal yourself, you know." Allura chuckled dryly.

"I fear that may never be true. There is no one left to teach me." The hope to one day locate any more living Alteans was squandered when she watched Haggar die. No, _dissolve._

"Nothing is impossible with you, Allura," He said. She turned to look at him and felt the urge to shy away from the heaviness in the expression: the uptilt of his narrow eyes and the slight crook in his eyebrow. Was it respect? Admiration, even? She would not attempt to answer those questions.

"I sincerely wish that were true," She let her head fall wearily to lean against the stone slab. It was no longer full of energy, just cold, solid rock. Lotor moved forward suddenly, urgency written clear all over his body.

"There is no need to wish. Everything you need is already at your disposal. You're just not using it to its full capabilities." Allura regarded him, listening.

"What exactly are you referring to?"

"Voltron, of course," He said. "Your father was one of the greatest Altean alchemists to ever live and he created two of the most extraordinary things this universe has ever known." Two?

"Ah," Allura turned away, stricken. She thought about it often, and she practiced as much as she could, but there were no guidelines. It was like trying to put together a Teludav after only seeing it in use.

Not a day went by that she did not wistfully think of what she would be right now if she had all those years to train and apprentice with her father. It was a useless thought, but one that was always reoccurring nonetheless.

"It's true," She continued. "However, you expect too much. As you said, he was the one who created Voltron, not I."

"I was talking about you, Allura," He said. She met his eyes.

"What?"

"You are his first greatest creation and you have abilities far beyond your current knowledge." She stared at him, speechless.

"Me?" He nodded earnestly as if he could drill this fact into her.

"And there are plenty of Alteans, they are just not in this reality." She remembered very well of the world the Altean Empire had created. Peace with a cost of free will. A world could never be satisfied with that. "The possibilities are infinite with you and your lions." His hand lifted slowly to hers, an animal he did not want to scare. It settled gently on her knuckles, soft, tender, hesitant. Were they truly the palms that had held deadly magic just hours before? She could not even feel callouses, despite his constant brash and harshness towards everything. "Allura, I must request a favor." She knitted her eyebrows. Was that it? He'd just wanted something from her?

She would hear him out at least before declining. "What is it?"

"What you did earlier, I've been thinking about it, and I want to test something. Put your magic into me again. I must be absolutely positive what happened." Allura looked away from him to focus on their hands, his atop hers. She drew hers away first, though reluctantly.

"I'm afraid I can't," she said. Lotor's look fell, all previous passion wiped away, a smudge on glass. "I myself don't particularly know how I did it. I'm not even entirely sure what happened." He retreated into himself, drawing up his knees to his chest, a very child-like gesture. She found herself speaking before she could stop herself. "I'm sorry." He waved it off. 

"There is no need to apologize, princess." She felt as if she'd let him down. "You are extraordinary no matter your abilities." It sounded like an attempt at comfort after she was not able to aid him. It was strange that he would assume she would feel guilty for that, but it was far stranger that she did.

He continued when she stayed silent. "On to more dreadful subjects, what has my father said?" Allura told him everything, about getting into Oriande and the decree of Lotor's fate.

Predictably, he was unfazed by his father's harshness. Perhaps it was better than what he had hoped for. "Funny, that is," He said. "That the part of me my father has always so despised is now the very thing he yearns for." He gave a harsh, dry laugh, revealing the tiny canines that grazed his bottom lip, a sharp feature turned soft by the expression.

"About those guards," He says, turning to meet her eyes again. They were light, almost. . . comfortable. "I have a couple in mind."


	7. Family

###### Home Soon - Issues

_I'm okay, but we can't fight this guy alone._

_You won't have to._

Keith walked the halls in silence with Acxa, steady paced. His mind was running wild with questions, why did she cover for him? Was she truly taking him to the holding cells or was it a trap?

They went down into the belly of the ship. His suit told him the temperature dropped, but he felt nothing physically, only the shift in ambiance, like walking into a catacomb. One because of the feeling, and two because of the emptiness.

The endless hallways were deserted. Maybe the Galra had gotten so confident they didn't expect any attempt at a breach, or maybe the prisoners had been in there so long no one was left to remember to rescue them. Acxa kept her head down to hide her face and did not break stride.

"You're Keith, right?" Keith's sharp intake of breath could not be stopped, and she nodded like he had replied intentionally. "You can call me Acxa. I'm repaying a favor. For the Scaultrite. And my life," She admitted begrudgingly.

The memory clicked into place: the belly of the Weblum. He had saved her and they'd teamed up briefly, for both of their survival, and here it came full circle. What was one of Lotor's generals doing on Zarkon's ship?

"Take me to the Paladins," He said.

"Like I'd take you anywhere else," She said dryly. Keith's legs sped up in anticipation, his head singing with the idea of seeing them all, safe, together. He hadn't allowed himself to indulge in such hopes, but now it was all he could see. "Now walk behind me," She instructed and he obeyed.

They rounded a corner to a line of very different cells, bigger and with bulkier doors. These were not abandoned, sentries stood at the ready at each door. Acxa marched up to them, shoulders back and face rounded in purpose. "High Priestess Haggar has requested this hallway be cleared out for her arrival." The sentry stared at her until turning to look at Keith. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but then Keith remembered something from a very long time ago.

He made a couple hand gestures. A moment passed and Keith thought the soldier was going to sound the alarm, but he only made a clear out movement to the others posted, and they all filed out. He sighed in relief and silently thanked Hunk for his lucky improvisation skills with a dead Galran arm.

"Which one are they in?" He asked. Acxa glanced at all of the doors—and shrugged.

"I don't know. This is the hard lockdown zone, but I'm sure you'll find out when Haggar gets here." So what was he supposed to do? Pace until she showed up? "This is the best I can do for you." Keith felt disappointment well up in him, but he stifled it. One step closer. Another and another until he made it to them. "I'll get you the code later and consider my debt paid." He nodded. It didn't really matter if she kept her word or not, he'd figure it out on his own. Acxa looked like she wanted to say something more, her mouth a thin line as she met his heavy gaze with one equally as penetrating, but she seemingly decided against it and left.

Alone. He stood still next to the door, rod straight with his gun poised at the ready. How much time passed, he didn't know, but it felt like an eternity. The bayard tingled against his stomach and screamed at his body to move, move, but he stayed still.

Eventually, forms approached. It was only two of the female generals, Acxa and the tall one. Acxa went up to a small pad next to the door and then turned to the other general.

"Sorry, what was the code again?" Acxa asked innocently. The girl narrowed her eyes.

"Forgot again?"

Acxa shrugged indifferently. "I only remember the important stuff, alright?" The girl rolled her eyes in response, arms crossed over her chest.

"What's more important than some security codes?" She joked, and Acxa smiled.

"I remember that time you broke Lotor's control panel and blamed it on Zethrid."

"Acxa! You said you wouldn't tell anyone," She pouted.

"I haven't, I swear," She said, laughing quietly. "How did it happen again? Zethrid stumbled on Lotor's _ethereal beauty and fell onto it?"_ With that, the other girl started laughing, too. The air had a different sort of lightness to it than it had when it was all of them together, but with just the two of them, it was jovial. Happy, familiar. He wondered just how long they'd stuck together. "Sorry, Ezor, I just can't forget stuff like that."

Ezor tsked. "Fine." She recited the code for Acxa, and just like that, Keith knew it. He made a mental note to thank Acxa later.

Ezor cleared her throat and placed her hands on her hips while Acxa took up a defensive stance behind her. The doors slid open with a burst of air.

"Takashi Shirogane," Ezor announced and Keith's breath caught in his throat. "You are required by High Priestess Haggar. Come with us willingly or unwillingly, your choice." Shiro. He was right behind him, so close, and he couldn't turn to him and tell him that he was there to save him, could not give him the smallest of hopes. He could not even keep Shiro from whatever Haggar's plans were for him.

A cough sounded. "Again? What does she want?" Shiro said. Again?

"You'll find out when we get there. Now come on, I don't have all day." She picked at her nails leisurely. Chains rattled, and then came Shiro.

He looked ragged, his face covered in scratches and his hair a messy crop around his head. Still in his armor, he dragged his shackled feet toward her, and the girls took up stances on either side of him. No more sounds came from the room, so he must be kept in there alone. His eyes never drifted to Keith at all.

A moment passed and Shiro's arm was suddenly free of his restraints and he was spinning on Ezor, who dodged the attempt easily. He turned on Acxa and she met his blows head on with her own, dive, block, parry. Keith's hands were clenched so tight, what could he do? Reveal himself to help Shiro and try his luck with the two? Would Acxa help him or would she turn on him?

He didn't have time to choose. Shiro yelped as his Galran arm stopped in midair, illuminating its powerful glow in the grim. His body was straining forward with the effort to move it, but it stayed still as if against an invisible wall, and then he fell to his knees and Ezor materialized behind him from seemingly nowhere.

"Unwillingly, then." She retied his hands behind his back. Had Ezor held his arm or was it something else? Before he knew it, Shiro was back on his feet, and Acxa turned to Keith, pulling him from the stunned trance.

"Take up the rear, soldier," She said, and Keith made his feet move to fall into place behind Shiro, and then they walked. He kept his movements robotic and by _God_  he swore it was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

They approached a room and ushered Shiro inside. It resembled the lab he'd seen earlier, one he really did not care to remember, and there stood Haggar. He saw her sly eyes under her hood dart to him for a moment before coming to rest on Ezor.

"Perfect," She said. "Ezor, stand guard outside." Ezor glanced at Acxa, who gazed back at her, but then saluted before exiting the room and sealing them inside. If Acxa betrayed him, he was dead and Shiro would watch helplessly. What had he gotten himself into? An unwelcome unease crept into him.

But Haggar didn't look at Shiro, only Acxa. Her voice seemed to shift, change an octave. "You have not introduced me," she said. Acxa looked at Shiro and back to her, slightly confused.

"This is Takashi, known as Shiro—"

"You know whom I am speaking of," She said. Keith's grip on his gun tightened. Was it possible she knew. . ? No, there was no way.

Acxa remained ignorant.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Priestess," She said, not meeting Haggar's eyes.

And then Haggar changed.

Her gangly, limp form grew and straightened out, and when the head tilted up and the light hit her face it was not Haggar who looked back.

"A—Allura?" Shiro gaped, and she smiled at him, a radiant thing, and Keith knew that under his mask his mouth had fallen open, too, his eyes refusing to accept what they saw. Acxa, however, was not smiling.

"Just what the hell is this?" She'd stumbled away from the three of them. Keith lowered his mask immediately, Allura, in the flesh, the most hope he'd seen in days, practically the Northern Star.

"I'm glad to see you, Keith," Allura said, and Shiro spun around to face him, his face full of uplifting relief.

"Quiznak," Acxa said. "You feed one and he brings the whole pack." Keith's chest was collapsing, a weight taken off it as he threw his arms around Shiro, who could only return the hug with his chin digging into Keith's shoulder, but it was enough. It was enough. 

"How many times," Shiro said. "are you going to save me?" Keith smiled at the memory.

"As many times as it takes," Keith whispered.

"As strange as all this is," Acxa said. "I can't say I'm upset you're not Haggar, but I need some explanation here and a reason not to cry Zarkon." Allura laughed.

"You and I both," Allura said, and he could even hug her with how glad he was, hell, he wanted to hug Acxa, too.

"How," Keith said to Allura. "How did you know it was me?"

"I had suspicions when I heard your voice, and when Acxa took up for you I was not sure what to think. However, you're still using your left hand." She said brightly, but then her eyes flicked away from his. "Later I found some particular. . . _data_ , and I knew." Keith's heart stumbled up at the mention of that data, the horrid files and his eyes darted to Shiro, but luckily the man didn't seem to find anything amiss.

With that, he spoke up, "As much as I love this reunion, guys, we have to figure out a way out of here now that we're all together. We may not get another opportunity like this." He did not even question how they'd all gotten to this position, always the voice of reason where others were emotion. Allura nodded, though she still seemed to be eyeing him warily.

"I told the other generals and my subordinates I was going to do a follow-up study on your arm, but I could not think of an excuse to extract the others also. I'm afraid it is only us for the time being." Acxa questioned Allura's plans, and she told her. Allura was too trusting of her simply because she'd helped Keith out once, but it didn't seem to be the worst idea from the way it was received. As much as Acxa disliked Lotor and the way he ran things, she would rather work with him because the fact was he was the lesser evil when it came to him or Zarkon. Her and Lotor's end goal had been the same, which explains her extended loyalty to him, although cut short.

"I'd only agreed to Haggar's, er, Allura's terms on our temporary release because we needed a way out of that cell," Acxa said grudgingly.

"Wait," Shiro said. "They had you guys locked up too?" Acxa nodded.

"We were enemies because we'd worked with Lotor, even if we'd betrayed him in the end." She sounded a little bit regretful at that last statement. "Allura proposed we guard Lotor on the ship to show our allegiance to the 'true Empire.'" She did air quotations and Allura smiled proudly.

"Clever, wasn't it?" Allura glowed.

And then they planned. He almost couldn't believe it, that on this entire ship, he'd gotten trapped with not just people he knew but _allies._ Acxa wanted off of the ship as much as they did, it seemed, and would see about her fellow generals' stance on things.

"Now, lastly," Allura began to explain the last bit. "Do you know anything of Oriande?" She explained this to them, too, about the tales of a place that was apparently much more than just a story. It reminded Keith of Atlantis in premise. Maybe all myths were based on some far away truth, or maybe the universe was just so vast that there was not a single thing that somebody had imagined that did not already exist somewhere. Keith remembered Hunk and Lance's stories of the deep-sea mermaids and thought that the idea no longer seemed so unfeasible. A lot of the things he and his dad used to discuss now seemed very, very possible indeed.

Acxa's face took on a faraway look. "I know some," she said. "They say it brings out a person's true intentions and only those who are worthy may enter. Haggar presumably couldn't get inside because it knew her intentions weren't exactly. . . you know."

Shiro replied, "Do you have any idea where it is?" Acxa shook her head.

"No idea, but I'm not sure I'd wanna tell you if I did. We never knew she had found it, especially after we got locked up. I can't even tell you how long we were in there." Allura turned a leveled look on Acxa.

"Wait just a tick," she said. "How do you know of Oriande tales? Normally anyone who is not Altean has never even heard its name." Acxa looked a bit wary, eyes darting between the three of them.

"Well, that's easy." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm part Altean."

Allura looked stunned.

"You're. . . Part Altean? But how?" She stumbled, skeptical but not without hope. Acxa took a deep breath.

"On that note, I guess I have to fess up to something else, too," She said, and much to his surprise, she turned to Keith. "There's another reason I helped you, not just because of what happened in the Weblum." Keith met her gaze evenly, but he did not know what to expect.

"What is it?" She tilted her head slightly and gave him a nervous, closed smile before giving up on the attempted kind expression.

She sighed. "It's been a long time, but, I'd recognize my mother's face anywhere."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the timelines dont match up perfectly yet in case that wasnt obvious lol. & if any of yall say sheith b e g o n e


	8. Prisoner

###### I Know I'm A Wolf - Young Heretics

_I always wanted to be an explorer._

Allura found herself wandering the halls alone again. It was not something she wanted to grow accustomed to, she thought fruitlessly, and approached yet another holding cell. Another cell that her friends were not behind, but she reminded herself to keep patient. It would pay off in the end, and success did not come easy. She would tear down Zarkon panel by panel.

Doors were opened at her request, and heads perked up at the sight of her. Three women clustered together, all conversation halted at the doors opening and the morbid sight of Haggar beyond.

"Prisoners," She said. Lotor's former generals did not conceal their glares, and she could hardly blame them. They had sworn loyalty to Lotor and had stuck with him until it had been their very lives on the line, but it was truly all Lotor had. He was betting on the fact that when it came down to it, they would still choose him over Zarkon, for personal reasons rather than any loyalty to him. It had to be enough.

"Haggar," Acxa addressed, and Ezor and Zethrid seemed to fall into formation behind her, a gesture very practiced yet no longer a conscious effort. She wondered where Narti had stood, another one of his loyal comrades that had fallen victim to his mother's possession.

A lithe form approached from behind them, and a small, gnarled cat jumped to Ezor's shoulder, eyes glowing purple. It's back bowed up and gave an audible _hiss_ at Allura, and all of the generals exchanged looks.

She disregarded it and announced, "I have come with a proposition."

* * *

 

Time never stopped, much to Allura's dismay. She often found herself wishing for just a moment she would be the only one left, that she could walk freely without glancing over her shoulder or patting her face to assure herself it was not her own. It kept flowing on and on as her feet carried her through the endless ship. Its size was almost inconceivable, much bigger than the Castle of Lions, a size she'd grown comfortably accustomed to. However, she was confined to the more practical sides and never got to witness the diplomatic sides where commanders and generals would sleep and visit or even lived. It was apparently a much different kind of war waging there, a war for attention, position and territory, but always power. They practically fell over themselves for it, mouths salivated like savages at just the idea.

She knew of the gladiator matches from Shiro's stories, although kept vague, she had imagined, but imagination did not compare to reality. She heard its name carried like a disease shared lovingly between them all, and they spoke of it as if it was an acting show, as if it was not people pitted against people for their very lives just for a couple hours of measly live entertainment.

It was sickening the things that went on. Sometimes she would pass by doors and hear screaming, sirens begging for salvation that she could not deliver.

She was not their savior. She was just a girl.

Allura glided in between her wall of generals with Lotor beside her. What a strange sight they must have been, pitted enemies for the longest, mother and son that now walked practically hand in hand. The generals must wonder what could have possibly happened to change Lotor's mind, or perhaps they were only wondering when Lotor would give them instruction to turn on her. Allura hoped that soon, she would be able to tell them the truth, though she had no idea when it might be safe enough to do so. She had no idea if it would ever be safe enough with Lotor. Maybe she'd be just like Narti. . .

The thought troubled her. Though he'd told her his reasoning, it still resonated a strong sense a wrongness within her, the cold-blooded nature she struggled to connect with the Lotor she saw, the Lotor that looked at her softly and asked how she was fairing. She found she did not want to picture the murder and Lotor in the same frame, something she had already seen and still struggled to recollect. . .

But then again, seeing the best in people had always been her greatest weakness.

The formation approached one of the labs where she and Lotor had searched for information on Oriande. They scoured together most of the time, but sometimes she would find him there, alone, his hair bedraggled and fighting exhaustion. She questioned him on why he could not wait, but he would merely shake his head in dismay and it was left alone.

It had been a struggle to find codes and written points of entrance, but she had found them and gotten access to most points on the ship. There were some places, though, she simply could not reach with her true Altean identity, something no amount of shape-shifting could conceal.

The doors opened and she heard Ezor speak, "What are you doing here?" Allura couldn't see who they were addressing from her place behind the body barrier, so she stayed still and trusted them to take care of it. Lotor stood silently behind them, too, the face of both royalty in his armor and a king who would fight alongside his soldiers. At this point, she'd prefer wearing Lotor's armor over the mangy robes.

Her thoughts got away from her until, interrupted, a voice spoke. "I was instructed to clear the area ahead of you," It said. That voice. . .

She peaked around Zethrid and saw a sentry, except something was. . . off.

The way he held himself appeared more human than mechanical. His voice had a robotic, monotone sound to it, kind of muffled, but off. Allura felt something on him, too, like an extra presence. An energy.

The debate continued between the generals on what to do with him, but the area should have been cleared far earlier for her arrival, so what was a sentry doing there?

Something clicked. His gun was held on the wrong side, and that feeling. . .

Allura closed her eyes and reached out to the presence, and immediately it announced itself to her, loud and clear.

The red bayard, radiating Altean energy. How had she not noticed it immediately? And. . .

Quiznak, was it Keith? Was it even possible? She didn't have time to ponder the hows of this situation when Acxa spoke up. "I know who he is," She said. She knew? How? Was she mistaken? A million questions ran through Allura's head, how could she keep Keith safe if Acxa's intentions were bad? What could she do, what could she say? What if it were not Keith at all?

Silence descended and Allura felt eyes shift to her. She made a quick decision and sent them to the prison division at Acxa's escort. Her best option was to trust Acxa with this and that her plans were not hostile. It was all she could think to do.

Acxa looked to Ezor, a silent conversation passing between them and then exited. Acxa was normally the one to stand guard outside the door, so she gave that duty to Zethrid instead. Ezor stood at the ready inside, her cat perched on her shoulder, back bowed in predatory lithe. 

Finally, they would begin the search. Lotor glided easily to somewhere else in the room, a place he'd probably explored before, but Allura took up the space where Keith had been and resumed where he'd left off.

The images that appeared had Allura swaying on her feet. She flicked through them nervously, quickly, afraid that Ezor or Lotor would see. She had no idea what it meant and did not particularly want to find out, deathly fearing all of the possible answers she'd get to questions that had chased Shiro his entire life.

She closed out the program. Now that she'd seen it, she knew for sure that the sentry had been Keith, so how had he found that information? It was supposed to be placed under high security, so how. . ?

"Haggar," Lotor said from behind her, a voice that demanded her attention. Had he seen? She felt sweat forming at her temple. "You may want to see this." She kept her breathing steady and went to his side.

"What is it?" He was analyzing some sort of schematic, projected and 3D, casting a blue hue over his face.

"It looks like the vessels they hold quintessence in, but upgraded, per say," His hand rested on his chin in concentration. "It doesn't appear to say anything of quintessence, though," He said.

"What else would it be used for?" She asked.

"I can't say for certain, but it's designed for energy, so perhaps it has something to do with the energy that captured us on planet Makani." That must be the planet that they'd all met Zarkon on, and it brought back memories of the white energy she'd experienced in vivid detail. She did not know how Lotor knew about it, though, since it had stopped by the time he'd arrived.

"Which was what, exactly?" She lowered her voice more to ensure Ezor would not overhear them from her post at the door, though she'd already become preoccupied with trying to balance a test tube on her head while the cat swatted at it.

"I can't say I know, princess," He said and fell back into thought.

"Do you remember what Haggar said? That she'd already visited Oriande?" Lotor nodded, looking at her.

"I do," He said warily.

"Perhaps it has something to do with that," She said, and he nodded in consideration.

"It's possible. . ." His eyes lingered on her before turning back to the blueprints. "But how could we find out?" That was a good question.

"I'm not sure," Allura admitted. It was a moment before Lotor cocked his gaze onto her again.

"You're able to sense things, correct? If it does have something to do with Oriande, and it's true that it's for Alteans, would you be able to sense it?" Allura mulled the possibility over. Could she?

"I suppose there's no harm in trying," She said, although she figured there was a lot of harm in it if she couldn't do it. She was tired of trying and failing, tired of disappointing herself. But she would try.

Allura closed her eyes and focused. Her mindscape was an infinite dark, like being thrust out into a space devoid of stars. And then they began winking into existence, dim and distant, and she could sense the lions, but she'd always known they were aboard the ship. In her mind she reached her arms out, stretching tendrils of her brain every which way to in her blind search until finally, they found purchase.

Far away, blinking, but there nonetheless. When her mind brushed against it, her body was met with a jolt of electricity, and she was pushed—no— _shoved_ out of her own scape, panting.

Lotor's hand was already in hers, supporting. "Allura? Allura, are you alright?" Allura put a hand to her forehead and felt it come off clammy.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure what happened. Something pushed me away." She said shakily, her hand still in his. She did not pull away, not immediately.

"Don't apologize, you've done far more than I ever could. Did you locate anything?" Allura looked up at him and nodded.

"I believe I did. It's somewhere below us, but it's inside one of those chambers like you described. But it's here, and it's Altean, I'm sure of that."

"All we have to do now is find it," He said. "With your help, we should be able to pinpoint it in no time, but for now you should rest." Now that he said it, she did feel rather fatigued. She nodded and he released her hand. "I'll go with Zethrid to search." With that, he turned away and left, an eagerness and purpose to his step. Progress, they were making progress.

Allura kept finding her eyes return to the computer that held Shiro's secrets. It felt wrong to look at it herself, like snooping through his personal diary, when there were things Shiro himself did not even know in there.

When Acxa returned, Allura turned to her and Ezor.

She commanded, "Retrieve prisoner Shirogane."

### 


	9. Stoke

###### Cold Heart (Warm Blood) - Palisades

_What the cheese?_

Yeah, that's pretty much how Keith had been feeling recently. Acxa's voice now mingled with Lance's in his head, dogs chasing their own tails. He marched down the halls, looking like he had a purpose, which he did, just not one that anybody besides his fellow conspirators knew of.

But what did it matter? He was just another sentry, probably malfunctioning, right?

Maybe they'd call Hunk to do a check up on him. His brain did feel short-circuited due to recent. . . _events_.

_I'd recognize my mother's face anywhere._

His first reaction had been pure denial, which probably said a lot about his character as a whole. To simply call her a lunatic and dismiss the fact altogether. Sometimes he'd preferred to think one day, after thousands of years of not being here, suddenly he'd just existed. Poofed into the world, and he didn't have to worry about abandonment or wars or any of that fun stuff.

But the reality (why did Keith have to be born into this reality?) of the situation was that Acxa had seemed familiar to him since he'd met her. She'd felt like an extension of himself, and sometimes when he looked at her it was like looking into a mirror, the way they shared glares and quick wit and relatively poor people skills. It was as prevalent on her as it was on him, and the end result was they'd work oddly well together, sugar and salt, or they'd rub the wrong way and start a fire.

This time it had been fire.

She had tried to smile, but ultimately it faltered when of course, Keith had felt mad. He'd been so angry then, he'd always been so angry. . .

"What the hell are you talking about?" He said. "You can't just claim me like I'm some stray dog. You're no more my family than Lotor is." Allura and Shiro stood idly by, watching it unfold and unable to offer any input that wouldn't further stoke them. Now that he thought about it, it was probably incredibly awkward.

Acxa's eyes narrowed. "Do you want me to act like a stranger, then? Was I supposed to say nothing?" Keith groaned in frustration.

"No! Of course not—"

"Then what, Keith? Please, do tell," She said dryly.

"I don't know," He grumbled, turning away.

"Just because you're my little brother doesn't mean I'm going to give you special treatment or wipe your tears, Keith. It's just a fact."

"I'm angry because. . ." Keith's anger was coming to a boiling point, and it was only down from there, foam to spill over the edge of the pot. It always came to this. "Because it wasn't supposed to be like this," He mumbled. He had pictured a reunion with his family so many times and never had it gone like this. To yearn for something picture perfect was just unrealistic, and he'd never wasted time on it, but this. . .

She scoffed. "Yeah, you're damn right it wasn't. Tell that to mom. She's the one who left you, not me." At that, Keith looked at her and saw her mouth in a taut line, her body rigid just as his own was. The parallel of it made Keith relax his own stature if only to break the already too pronounced similarities between them.

He said evenly, curiosity overtaking his anger, attempting to fix this situation, "What. . . What was she like?" Acxa looked at him with lowered eyes.

"Like this. Butting heads. Yelling." Keith let out a breath of pent-up air as silence fell. What could he say? "You're right," She spoke softly after a moment. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. But after a while, I just stopped hoping for anything at all." Keith nodded as if he understood, but he didn't, not completely.

He had never stopped hoping. Not once had he infiltrated a Galra ship and neglected to search for her as if he'd ever possibly recognize her face, but he searched nonetheless. Sometimes he felt like his dad, the one in his nightmares, assuring himself that his mother would be home soon, that she'd explain everything and finally Keith would understand.

But he still didn't.

Keith reached into his suit and pulled out his knife, holding it sideways in his hands like it was a delicate flower and not a weapon designed to kill. Acxa beheld it with wide eyes, lips parting.

"I kept this. It's all I had of her." Acxa stared for a moment more before letting out a small, bitter laugh of disbelief, shaking her head.

"This was supposed to be mine," She whispered. Keith looked up at her, speechless, and then held it out to her. A peace offering.

She looked at him, studying, before taking it hesitantly into her own hands and holding it equally as daintily as he had, running her fingers along the gleaming edges and watching the blue glow of the Blade's symbol.

She spoke, "She wanted me to grow up to be in the Blade, too. But it was you instead." She gripped it tightly, her head coming down to lay softly on top of it, and her shoulders began to shake. "I wonder if she'd be disappointed, still. But I'm sure she'd be proud of you." There was so much meaning in the sentence, he couldn't immediately pick it all apart. But what he did gather was that. . . his sister thought their mom would be proud of him. Her half-human, half-Galra son.

Acxa lifted her head and held out the blade to him, turning away. "Here, take it. It's yours. It was never meant to be mine." Keith felt like he should apologize, but he wasn't sure what he'd be apologizing for, so he kept it to himself.

"Is she. . ?"

"I don't know. Haven't seen anything of her since she left to go to Earth for the Blade." He had so many questions, they were endless through his head, but he thought that maybe they should be saved.

But something was bugging him.

Something very, very big.

"Earlier," Keith broached, swallowing a lump in his throat. "You said that. . . You're part Altean," He said it slowly, like the words were afraid to come out because that might suddenly make it true. Acxa turned to him and cocked her head, searching his face.

"Yes, Keith," She said. "You're part Altean, too."

That was the point at which Allura jumped into the conversation and there were tears forming in her eyes. The rest of the day became a jumbled mess in his memory because it always refocused back to his conversation with Acxa. His. . . sister. His blue, alien sister.

His dad _really_ was not as crazy as he had thought.

After all of that had gone down, Allura and Keith had shared looks that wordlessly agreed not to tell Shiro what they'd found yet. It was just not something they wanted him to have to deal with right now, and quite nearly alone, at that.

Now was time for different subjects, though. He entered a new laboratory this time, and this one was filled with strange pods and tubes. It all had a very tense, disquieting feeling.

Allura, Lotor, and Acxa stood in a corner and turned at his arrival. Zethrid and Ezor were nowhere to be seen, so he went over to them. It was frustrating not being able to tell the Paladins about, well, everything, but none of them wanted to risk going to retrieve them and causing suspicion. The time would come, and they would be prepared because once they got the Paladins out of that cell there was no way they were going back in.

Lotor was analyzing one of the pods, crouched down on the inside of the large cylinder. He didn't flick a glance at him, so it was assumed he'd been informed of Keith's. . . position.

Allura looked them all over.

"Look at all these Alteans in one place!" She whispered excitedly to herself. Acxa rolled her eyes, but Lotor smiled, just barely, up at her.

"On that note," He said. "This is undeniably Altean technology, is it not?" Allura nodded her confirmation.

"Without a doubt. It's incredibly similar to our cyropods, but I cannot tell it's real purpose."

Acxa shrugged, "Beats me."

"It looks more like those different pods you had in the back," Keith said. "Where we put Sendak." Allura nodded.

"That's very true. I can't imagine why they'd want to store someone's consciousness, though. I don't exactly take them as sentimental folk," She said, and Lotor, Acxa, and Keith turned to her. She put her hands up in surrender. "Er, besides you lot, of course," She grinned sheepishly.

Keith spoke, "Maybe it isn't designed for an AI, maybe it's just to extract memories. Like what we tried to do to Sendak." Allura leveled a look at him.

"And failed. It simply was not meant for that."

Lotor was looking at something on the diagram coming from his forearm when he added, " _Yours_ was not meant for it, that's correct. However, this is the same as your device in idea, but very different in purpose. I'm betting Haggar used her knowledge of Altean technology to create it and change it so as to fit her own agenda." Allura pursed her lips.

"Unfortunately, that is very possible," she said.

"Well," He said. "You're the only full-blood Altean out of us halfbreeds. If anyone can figure it out, it's you, Allura," He assured and continued his tinkering.

They all got to work on separate areas, Keith trying to tap into some secret Altean powers he might've looked over and Acxa listening intently but rarely offering useful input. It was only a matter of time before they were interrupted.

Zethrid entered the room, panting, "My lord, there is something that demands your immediate attention." Everyone inside except Lotor exchanged glances, but Zethrid only looked at Lotor despite the penetrating gaze Acxa was shooting Zethrid's way that was demanding some explanation.

"I will be there shortly," Lotor said and turned to his collaborators. "I must bid you all goodbye." Then he looked to Allura, specifically, "Please, do not get too comfortable in my absence," And he smiled at her, and to perhaps everyone's surprise, she smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys i rlly cannot tell you how much every comment means to me and every kudos warms my heart :') Only two more weeks and this whole first arc will be finished ! I am mega excited for u guys to read this climax bc its WILD ,,, also um ily   
> ((& sorry for the majority lotura?? next arc will have majority klance dw))


	10. Home

###### Runaway - AURORA

_She probably has a puppet already. Someone she can control and manipulate_.

"Allura," Lotor said.

They'd been searching for something more, something that was meant to be kept hidden, and needless to say, they'd found it. They'd had to wait until a majority of the people were distracted to go lurking about, and it had finally come.

Allura had found it and it felt as if it had been screaming her name all along; it called to her as Altea once did, a large capsule radiating pure, white light, and she heard it singing, playing her heartstrings with delicate, provocative fingers. It was everything quintessence wanted to be, it pulsated life and energy and power, power, power always power. She felt herself walking towards it, staring open-mouthed, a moth to light, until something tugged her backward. Lotor's hand was gripping her forearm, keeping her from getting any closer.

She turned to him, hurt that he was not allowing her this, but his expression grounded her. Her transformation had fallen, and she knew that he was looking at _her_ , Allura, not Haggar. The thrum in her veins parted, clouds letting in clear sunshine.

And Lotor looked. . . afraid.

"Please, princess, do not go any closer. It may be contained right now, but who knows what could transpire. It is like a soul seeking a worthy vessel, I would hate for it to find you're it's nearest patron." Allura lowered her head, disappointed in herself that she'd gotten enticed so quickly and began walking away from it, even though it still felt as if it had one hook in her gut. He smiled gently down at her. "Besides, I rather like the soul you have right now," He said.

Allura felt her face heat. "Then I suppose you should steer clear, too," She said and found herself returning the look. He nodded and led her to the other side of the corridor.

Wall-length shelves covered the entirety of the room, piled high with the strangest of collections. It was an array of different objects and it would take weeks to try and decipher what just one of them was without the owner there to identify it. When her instincts had first led them there, she'd looked up in wonder around the room, and still, she sometimes had to catch herself from marveling at it. There was no telling how long it had taken to acquire so many items, so many remnants of cultures and people now dead harbored in here, spoils of war made to appear as a trophy collection.

Lotor still held her forearm, and she felt his hand slide down to graze her fingertips until he let his hand fall swiftly to his side.

"If I may ask, what does it feel like?" He asked hesitantly. Allura was looking up at him, head cocked.

"It feels. . ." She could not think of any other way to describe it. "It feels like home."

Lotor turned his head away. "I see."

"What is it?" She asked, sensing the words had troubled him.

"Well," He hesitated. "I was wondering. . . if it were tailored to each person, what would it feel like to me? If it were to feel like. . . _home_ ," He said, the word foreign on his tongue.

She voiced a question she'd been wondering for a long time. "Did. . . Did you ever know Diabazaal?" Lotor kept his eyes locked on the floor.

"No," He said. "I was born after the Rift was formed. I do not even have a mother to tell me of it, no stories I could hope to pass on." He had never sounded so vulnerable, and she found herself wishing to reach out to him, but how could she? They had both lost their home planets, yes, but the difference was they had destroyed their own and Allura's had been torn away from her. She would not allow herself to comfort him physically, no matter how much her fingertips tingled with it. "I apologize," He said.

Allura looked at him, exasperated. "What are you apologizing for?" She let the other half of that sentence die, _what could you possibly say that would heal either of us?_

He gazed back at her, no bitterness or anger in his eyes, only compassionate regard. "I don't mean to have my own pity party," He chuckled, little canines poking past his lip. "But I do mean to fix this the best way I can, which is why we must get someone else to examine this for us. I hypothesize that it is only dangerous to those of Altean blood, though there is only one way to be positive." He paused, and he smiled even bigger, and something strange happened in Allura's chest. "I think it is time to get your friends, Allura."

* * *

 

The Gladiator matches approached without fail. The tremor was like a great wave that fell over the entirety of the ship, anticipation, fear, the feeling of watching something fall and knowing you are too far away to catch it.

She was scheduled to accompany Zarkon, as to be expected, in his esteemed place among his subjects, but she would not be in attendance this time around.

The Gladiator matches approached, as did her plans for her friends, and her plan to take on Zarkon for everyone else's entertainment. They would watch their ruler fall, and they would watch Voltron and Lotor, united, take his place.


	11. Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: anxiety/panic attack

###### Yeah Yeah Yeah (V2) - Jack Conte

_Keith, no one can replace Shiro. But the Black Lion wouldn't choose anybody it didn't feel was worthy to lead Voltron._

He may not have been the best leader, Keith knew that. But now, he would lead them out of this hellhole. He swore his life on it.

If somebody asked him what day it was, he wouldn't be able to tell them.

But nobody asked.

Keith stood in front of the prisoner cells, waiting. Waiting for a signal that seemingly would never come, but he knew he could count on Allura. The alliance with Lotor was still in effect, it seemed, but he was not going to protest. At this point, he would take any help he could get as long as the end result was the same. He was going to get Shiro and he was going to get him back to the Black Lion. Lotor would never be in the picture when it came to that, and he sure as _hell_ wouldn't be in it when it came to Lance.

He tapped his finger against his gun. _Tick, tick, tick, tick,_ his fingertip against the metal. Three hours, four, probably, who knew. It felt like nighttime, but it was always night in space.

Acxa, Ezor, and a group of other Galra came out from the darkness. "High Priestess Haggar has requested the remaining prisoners." With that, Keith's heart stopped. He'd returned from their initial meeting at least a day ago, and Shiro had been returned to his lonesome cell in that time. But he'd be back for him.

In that time he'd been researching with Allura and Lotor, but it'd been hours since Lotor was called away and the efforts momentarily halted.

But now, finally, the first step of the plan began. Finally, it was time to get them out.

He could practically hear the stomping feet of the Gladiator rounds.

He nodded obligingly and Acxa proceeded, pressing buttons breezily and a new set of doors opened.

"Who's there?" _Matt_.

"The High Priestess requires all of you. Please come with me," Acxa said, the perfect face of etiquette while on duty.

Ezor, however, was different. "Yeah, what she said."

He heard Pidge retort, "Like we'd ever go with you." Ezor shrugged indifferently.

"Oh, you'll come," And she smiled, razor sharp. Acxa laid a hand on her arm. "Come on, let me have some fun, Acxa." She whined and then let her voice take on a monotone sound, imitating. "Please proceed in an orderly fashion, one-by-one."

"Come on, guys," Lance. His voice was so morose and small, Keith felt hollow just from the sound. "Let's just go." And he went. He emerged from the corner of Keith's eye, hunched, mouth down-turned in a frown, eyes on the floor.

Until they weren't.

As Hunk began filing in behind him, Lance looked up, right at Keith, and he barely concealed his gasp. Lance narrowed his eyes at him, but then turned away and kept walking.

_Come back._

_Don't go._

_I should have never gone._

Keith's heart was hammering against his chest, a hummingbird attempting to breach its cage. His throat was choking on words unspoken.

Pidge yelled, "What about dad? We can't just leave him here alone!" She sniffled, hopeless. Acxa huffed.

"He can stay," She pointed into the cell, presumably at Matt.

"Fine," Pidge caved and fell in behind Hunk. Ezor began closing the cell behind them, and Pidge called out to her brother, "I'll be back!"

Just as the door closed, he heard, "I know you will!" Matt shouted. Her dad had not said a word.

Huh.

They began walking. Keith discreetly fell into the guard formation and found it very difficult to maintain the slow pace.

"So," Hunk said, looking around at the bodies. "You wouldn't happen to be escorting us to our Presidents limousine, would you? I hear they have cocktail bars inside of them."

Lance huffed. "Only one of us can be the President," He mumbled.

"Duh, Pidge is the Vice President and you're my assistant, obviously." Their voices and the sound of their footsteps through the corridors was all he could hear, echoing. The familiarity of it made his emotions soar, and the joy of just hearing them speak casually like this was overwhelming. Perhaps this had always been their way of coping.

"What!" Lance cried. "Why aren't I the Vice President?" The joking mood was obviously fake, a ploy to get Pidge's mind off parting with her brother, but it was enough. Pidge looked up at her friends fondly.

"Lance, you can barely take care of the mice, much less a whole country." Lance pouted.

"I'll have you know I've taken care of _many_ turtles back home," He said. God, his voice. Keith would have bottled the sound if he could.

That's when it fell quiet. The silence was heavy over them all, feet scuffing the floor.

Hunk spoke softly, "Lance?"

"Yeah?" He answered.

"I'm scared." Lance's head turned to look at Hunk, but his eyes went past him to fall onto Keith once again, and Keith's body responded like he'd just finished running laps.

"Me too, buddy." He turned away.

They approached the door. Each of them was ushered inside, and the Galra soldiers were instructed to remain outside, so he did.

But he did not stay long.

His feet carried him far away to a place he had memorized, and he entered the laboratory with ease. Once inside, he pulled up the same monitor, wishing once again for good luck, but this time, nothing came up.

"No," He whispered. A red error message kept flashing across the screen, but luckily no sirens sounded. Keith couldn't say for sure that even if they did he would have run. Fingers flying across the board furiously, he tried to input something, anything to get inside, but it was no use. Shiro's files had been locked or wiped altogether.

His hands shook. So close, he had been so close to finding secrets to him, information that could have helped Shiro understand himself, and he'd failed.

He was sitting on the ground, his head in his hands, when the door opened. Keith's body went rigid in panic and he quickly darted away from the message board to hide behind more of the nearby machines, thankful no automatic lights had greeted him when he'd entered.

Heels clicked on tile. Keith held his breath when they moved in front of him, but stopped right at the place he had been trying to hack.

Slowly, stiffly, he peaked around the corner.

There Lotor stood, his back to him, typing onto the computer's face.

Keith could hardly believe his eyes when the code was typed in with a breeze, and there were the files. He flicked through the photos habitually until stopping on a schematic of Shiro's arm. The tech was broken down and described in subcategories, and Lotor brought up another log from somewhere on his arm, glancing back and forth between the two.

Why was he alone? When had he gotten back from whatever had required his "immediate attention" and had he spoken to Allura yet? And why was he just standing there in the dark, sneaking like Keith had been? But most importantly, why was Lotor the one who had access to the files and why was he looking at them?

Time passed, and still Keith stared. Lotor occasionally typed things into his own database but did not tamper with the original work.

Keith really wished he knew how to read Galran.

Someone entered. "My Lord," A general, probably Zethrid. Lotor looked up, startled out of his concentration, and collapsed the images hastily. "You have been summoned by Emperor Zarkon." A pause. "It's beginning." He nodded at her.

"Very well," He said and closed his own ledgers. Keith did not fail to notice his clenched fists before he exited the room.

Keith's thoughts were in a frenzy when he finally went to the message board and found, sighing a breath of relief, he had not re-locked them. They were completely open to him. He had to make use of this time before someone interrupted. If only Pidge was here already to translate for him. So close. . .

He brought up the blueprints of Shiro's arm again, and twisted and turned it every which way, but he could not figure out what it meant no matter how closely he analyzed it. Whatever Lotor was seeing and found so interesting was something Keith simply could not decipher.

Exasperated, he returned once again to those photos. Goosebumps erupted all over his body by the time he reached the first one, toddler Shiro, but that was not near as bad as the feeling that overcame him when he found the most recent one.

It was probably only a week ago. He was unconscious on a metal table, eyes closed, lips parted. The folder opened, revealing an array of photos.

All of Shiro.

He was awake. His arm was glowing in one image, he was standing, and he was. . . fighting? Most of the photos were blurry from the movement, but in one a soldier who had been standing previously was now on the ground, immobile.

Keith would have assumed he was fighting for his freedom, to escape, but he was the only one who looked distressed. Haggar stood in the corner, and he zoomed in on the photo to see her mouth quirked up at the corners, a doll on strings.

Keith breathed, "What the hell?"

When had this even happened? Haggar must have done it before seeing Allura and Lotor, so how long were they knocked out, then?

He continued looking through them. The deeds continued, Shiro grimacing and Haggar standing still in the corner looking pleased like when your pet performs a trick to your liking.

Keith did not know what to make of it, nothing made any sense. Why had Shiro not mentioned it when they had met? How long ago was it?

A memory tugged at him. _"Again? What does she want?"_

Again.

His stomach was in knots, and he thought he would puke, but needless to say, he hadn't eaten much since his arrival and it clenched painfully with the effort of suppression. Keith clutched at it, but nothing helped, hot bile rising to his throat, and he put down his mask to try and breathe through it.

He was gasping when the doors opened again. It was dark, his eyes adjusting to the new light from the hallway, and he fell to the ground when his vision went blurry, attempting to crawl to cover, but someone was already running inside.

Keith blinked profusely at someone who was leaning over him, nothing more than a silhouette against the hallway light, as a hand touched his lower back, the first contact he'd felt in months, and he looked up, blinking as a face came into focus.

"Lance," His body responded. The boy gazed down at him, eyebrows plunged down in concern, his face even paler now than it had gotten over the weeks in a dank cell.

"Keith? Are you okay?" He asked. He saw Acxa standing nearby, looking down at his pathetic place on the floor, arms crossed over her chest. His heart was going a million miles an hour, and every time he tried to breathe in, it was like knives in his stomach. Lance put a supportive hand on his arm and helped him sit up properly. "Sit up straight, okay? You need to calm down," He took Keith's hand, sweet and soft, and placed it on his stomach where his diaphragm would be. "Get in rhythm with me. Breathe in, breathe out." He felt Lance rise and fall.

Keith was staring at him intently, focused on the steadiness of Lance's gaze and followed along with him. Breathe in, breathe out. It was easy, one two three, he could do that, right?

He had to take in shorter ones than Lance did to avoid the pain, but after a while, it began to subside. The air came easier now, Keith's hand on Lance's stomach, Lance's hand on his. The boy noticed the change.

"Better?" Keith nodded slowly, still staring, likely not devoid of wonder. "Alright, good." He still looked worried, and he gave Keith's hand a reassuring squeeze before returning it to his own body. Suddenly it felt stiflingly cold inside the room.

Like there were ghosts in the room and Keith's fear was suppurating, and god, he was going to _burst_.

Acxa looked over to Keith from the monitor, her face hard and even bluer in the light. "You need to explain what's going on _right now_ ," she insisted. Lance scowled up at her.

"Sheesh, give him some time—"

"We don't have time," She sneered. Lance was going to retort, but Keith mustered up his voice.

"It's okay, she's right," He said, and Lance looked back at him, his eyes concerned but so, so tender.

But the moment would be lost among many, many other things.

"I think something is wrong with Shiro."

### 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VREPIT SAHHH DUDES things have been mega busy lately since i got a job and :-/ it rlly sucks but um ily ??? thanks for reading <3


	12. Gone

###### Woman (in mirror) - La Dispute

_Surrender now or you will be destroyed._

Allura instructed, "Leave us." The escorts exited, all except Acxa who remained at the ready inside should anyone attempt to intrude on the. . . _sensitive_ business. She knew the others would not be back anytime soon, for they were now preoccupied. They marched down the halls, stomping feet in anticipation, in ritual.

It was a homecoming. The Paladins shuffled in, bound and cuffed. Hunk and Pidge's heads were hung low, but Lance was glancing around the room as if searching for something.

"Where is he?" Lance asked, pinning a hard stare on her. Allura quirked her head to the side, earning looks from Pidge and Hunk.

Pidge answered, "Where is who, Lance?" He ignored her inquiry.

Hunk piped up, "Shiro? Yeah, where is Shiro!" He said, looking now at Allura. Glancing amongst them, she found herself smiling, unable to contain the glee.

"He should be here shortly, paladins," And she let her guise fall, feeling her true form wrap around her like a favorite jacket, warm and familiar and _finally_ , she let her guard down, too. The three of them stared, slack-jawed.

"Is it just me," Hunk said. "or does Haggar look a lot like Allura?"

Pidge swallowed and squinted her eyes as if she could see through some illusion, and she noticed then the new tiny bend in the centerpiece of her glasses. "I think it _is_ Allura, Hunk." She said blandly.

"No way!" Lance denied. "Nuh-uh, not our Allura, not buying it." He turned his face away sourly. Allura slouched, unable to believe that this was actually happening.

"Guys," She said exasperatedly as they began arguing whether or not it was actually her. "I'm Allura." Hunk narrowed his eyes at her.

"That's exactly what, say, a _clone_ of Allura would say. Yeah, I've seen plenty of movies." Allura looked at Pidge for help, but the girl only shrugged. Acxa spoke, arms crossed against the wall of the room, eyebrow quirked up.

" _This_ is who you wanted to rescue?" She said. Allura sighed as Lance glared at her.

"Who the heck are you? This is an alphabet conversation, so please C yourself out," He retorted.

"Uh, Lance," Pidge said. "I think you mean its an A B conversation."

"Whatever," He said, looking back at Allura. "If you're really Allura then prove it."

"Fine, whatever you wish," She said, and the three of them huddled into a circle exchanging whispers while Allura looked to Acxa apologetically but the girl only rolled her eyes. Allura concluded an insufferable attitude had to be hereditary.

"Alright, me first," Pidge said and walked up to Allura, looking up with cynical eyes. "Double or single modulating?" Allura looked around at the others.

"What?"

"That's a trick question," Hunk said. "Don't fall for it." Pidge glared back at him.

"It most certainly is not!" Lance pushed her aside.

"Those questions won't work at all, we have to ask her something only Allura would know the answer to," He said. "What would you call two people talking and eating food?" Lance looked up at her, eyebrows dipped, mouth turned up in a suggestive grin. Allura's eyelids fell.

"A night devoid of Lance," She said monotonically. Lance's head fell in defeat.

"Yeah, it's Allura," He admitted and Hunk and Pidge cried out in happiness and ran to her, Pidge's face in her stomach and Hunk's chin atop her head and she laughed, gathering them into her arms. Lance walked over sullenly, but gave in and buried his face into her shoulder, a sly grin on his face.

"Are you all about done?" Acxa said. "We have important stuff to do." Allura nodded and began undoing their bindings.

"Right!" Allura said. "Explanations later, I promise, but for now we must get to work. It is crucial we get things done as quickly as possible."

"You never answered my question," Lance said as his cuffs fell away, and turned to her, suddenly very serious. She drew her eyebrows.

"I thought I said—"

"I'm talking about that guard," He said and went to look at Acxa, whose eyebrow rose in question. "Where did he go?" Acxa's eyes darted to Allura's, a silent question passing between them. Acxa seemed to decide something and leaned off the wall to stalk up to him, chin raised, calculating.

"If you're asking," She said low in her throat. "I think you already know." Lance did not break the gaze, Hunk and Pidge bunched together with their eyes darting between the two, unaware of the situation they were trying to assess. Acxa looked back up at her and she nodded her permission. "Come with me," She told Lance and walked away, not looking back to see if he would follow. She knew he would, and he did, casting a worried glance to the three of them, but only Allura's face would have held any answers, and then they were gone.

"Uh," Hunk pointed at the vacant doorway. "Did she just hypnotize him with some secret invisible magic? I think she did." Pidge rolled her eyes.

"You don't need magic to hypnotize Lance," She said. Allura laughed but stifled it with an awkward cough.

"As I was saying," She continued, not wanting to try and explain whatever just happened. She should have known at least one of them would have recognized Keith since she herself had been able to, but truth be told she had expected Lance the least. After all, he was the only one out of the bunch who hadn't ever even recognized Pidge was a girl despite knowing her prior to Voltron, but perhaps he'd always paid a special sort of attention to Keith.

Hm.

"I have a very important job for you two," She said. The loss of Lance probably was not that much of a loss at the moment, since he likely would not have been the best help for the task.

They eagerly trailed behind her as she led them to all of the evidence and research they'd collected, and most importantly, the white light. It was still contained within that capsule when the generals had retrieved it for her for "further inspection" and she wanted it to stay that way.

Pidge stopped abruptly, causing Hunk to slam into her and then catch her again.

"What," She breathed. "Is that?" Hunk was holding his hands to his chest protectively.

"Does anyone else feel funny? I feel funny," He said. Allura looked at him quizzically.

"I do not find anything humorous, no," She answered. Pidge shook her head as if shaking off cobwebs.

"I feel like I'm looking at the moon," She said and began walking toward it mindfully.

"I believe you mean _a_ moon," Allura pointed, earning a withering look from the two of them.

"So what is it?" Hunk said.

"We—er, I have gathered that it is likely what defeated us on planet Makani," She felt her cheeks heat at the blunder, already accustomed to Lotor's constant presence and the idea that it was them together, a package deal, rather than two separate people begrudgingly working in near proximities. "My research has been hindered because it has a much stronger effect on Alteans than it does others."

Pidge nodded, fingers on her chin. "Do you think it's from Altea?" Allura shook her head.

"Not likely, but perhaps it could have Altean. . . connections," She said and then proceeded to explain Oriande and Haggar's claims, along with Acxa's added notions. While she was speaking, Pidge was grabbing items from shelves and putting them together, tinkering until she held up a device to the tube.

"I've constructed a sort of x-ray," She said.

"A what ray? You're going to shoot it?" Allura said incredulously. Hunk patted her shoulder gently.

"Nevermind," she said. "I'm getting off the chart pressure readings from inside. It's like there's a black hole bottled inside here,"

Hunk added, "Well, it's white, so it'd be a white hole, technically." Pidge scoffed.

"Yeah, right, like they could ever—" She stopped suddenly, whirling to look at them. "Wait a minute! Maybe it is a white hole!" This time, Hunk scoffed.

"Yeah, and I've got a nebula on a keychain in my pocket." Pidge waved him off.

"I'm serious. Based on what Allura's told us about Oriande, maybe it could be. . . extracted from the source, since it seems to have a mind of its own. Maybe we're dealing with something almost omnipresent." Hunk looked at her skeptically.

"You're serious? So I could have my own little god on my shoulder?" Pidge shrugged. "Maybe this stuff would tell me to do the right thing and quintessence would tell me to start conquering worlds?"

"Are you insinuating quintessence is the devil?" Hunk held up his hands in surrender.

"Hey, anything is possible,"

"Don't be so broad, this isn't an episode of Tom and Jerry where you're deciding whether or not to smash the mouse with a piece of plywood. Things like this aren't bound by a moral compass."

"Fine, fine, no little quintessence to tell me to go with the 2% milk instead of the TruMoo." Pidge sighed.

Allura shivered, "Never go with the milk." After that, the three of them got to work separately on different devices, hands flying over keyboards and eyes rapidly screening through data, Pidge occasionally crying out in disbelief and wonder. Nothing would ever dull Pidge's fascination for things of this sort, not even days in a cell. On that note. . .

"Pidge," Allura broached. "Where is your father?" The girl did not turn around, only slumped her shoulders.

"I left him with Matt," She said.

"Is he. . ?" There was a pause before she answered.

"They did something to him," Her voice shook along with the hands that curled into tight fists. "He's borderline brain dead. Every once in a while. . . his eyes fall on me. . . and I think he's going to speak, but. . ." The words struggle to come out, and Allura crosses the room quickly to lay a hand on her shoulder as it trembles. "He just looks away." She's audibly crying now, swiping the backs of her hands across her face. Allura's heart stumbles as she pats her back in an attempt to be soothing.

"Hey, Pidgeon," Hunk looked over from the monitors next to the cyropod-like machine. "On that note, I think you should come look at this," He said.

Pidge sniffled, "Don't call me that." She and Allura gathered around the monitor as Hunk began pointing at things.

"You said this was like the thing we put Sendak in, right? Well, I think it did exactly what we tried to do."

Allura answered, "But why? Haggar's specialty was interrogation, why create something to do what they already could?" Hunk's eyes darted nervously.

"I think, uh," He stuttered. "I think it was more a punishment for someone else than it was the recipient." Pidge's face turned stark.

"Hunk," She said slowly. "What are you getting at." He let out a deep breath.

"I think they extracted your dad's memories. And I think they failed." Pidge's eyes had fallen to the ground.

"You're saying," Pidge said flatly. "they took my dad's memories and then accidentally destroyed them?" Hunk shook his head fervently.

"I'm saying they tried to do what we did, and. . ." Hunk looked to Allura. "Has anything strange been happening on the ship? Something that couldn't be explained?" Allura thought back as hard as she could. "Stuff going haywire or doing odd things," Hunk offered.

"Well. . ." Allura started, unsure. "I suppose some doors have locked. . ." A memory clicks. "Our bindings! While Lotor and I were imprisoned we were released abruptly, and at the time I'd figured it was just my magic interfering, but now I suppose that is likely not what happened." Hunk was nodding.

"Pidge," He said. "Do you remember. . ?" Pidge nodded slowly, acknowledging, and then Hunk turned to Allura for explanation. "Sometimes we would hear. . . music."

"Music?"

"At first we just thought the Galra were out having a party nearby, but, we realized it was our songs. Earth songs, that is."

Pidge's voice cracked, "Hunk." He let his eyes fall shut for a moment before opening them again, resolved, calmer.

"I think they failed in getting your dad's memories, just like we did, and I think Sam. . ." Hunk paused as Pidge's eyes met his. "I think Sam is possessing the ship."

Everything happened so fast. The still, choking tenseness of the air was obliterated by the bursting open of the door, and in came Acxa with both Keith and Lance in tow, panting harshly.

Hunk sputtered, "Did that lady hypnotize me, too, or is that Keith?" Keith didn't bother with introductions.

"Allura, where is Shiro?" He managed to say between gulps of air.

"Yeah, where _is_ Shiro?" Hunk asked curiously to Allura. She realized, then, that time had clearly gotten away from her, lost to the flow, and Shiro and Ezor definitely should have been back by now.

"Well—" She began, but she would never need to finish. It was then that Ezor burst into the room, eyes immediately falling on Acxa and announced her proclamation. "I can't find Zethrid or Lotor anywhere," She says simply. As she turns her head away from Acxa, finally assessing her surroundings, her eyes do a sweep of them all, and the room goes completely still. Nobody moves a muscle: the air itself holds its breath. "Shiro is gone."

She continues, slowly, looking to Acxa for an explanation, but then moved easily to her side and lowered into a defensive stance. "I also have a summoning for _Priestess Haggar_ ," She drawls, eyes lowered. That scrawny cat is with her, hissing towards Allura as it always had. "But I can see she's not here right now."

### 


	13. Beginning

###### Lucky Us - Crown the Empire

_I've got you, buddy._

Not a moment was spared between Keith's hasty, scattered explanation and running like he was the god Hermes that had to make a very urgent delivery, racing down the hallway, Lance and Acxa close behind. They'd skidded to a halt at the room Allura was in and then they could only watch in a stunned, fragile silence as Ezor's eyes turned to fall onto _Allura_. Not Haggar.

Turns out Acxa hadn't gotten a chance to tell the others, after all. She laid a hand on her friend's shoulder, hesitant. Keith felt Lance's breathing stop from their body's nearness.

"Ezor, I swear—" Acxa started.

"What've you gotten yourself into this time, Acxa?" The cat glared at the group, curling around Ezor's ankles protectively. Acxa, despite the rising tension that was wrapping around and suffocating everyone in the room, continued to smile her sly smile.

"Not anything more than we can handle," She said as Ezor dared a look over her shoulder to meet Acxa's steady, sure gaze. They searched each other's eyes before Acxa's voice lowered to a soft, more delicate tone: one that was only meant to reach Ezor. "I promise I'll tell you everything when I can, but for now," She said, her mouth curling into a larger, knowing grin. "I need you to shut up and trust me."

And she did. "This is going to be fun." Ezor had nodded to the others, strangers to her yet willing to put her trust in them. "I know where they are." Acxa looked to Allura, whose eyes looked back wide and fearful.

She spoke, words that would carry and remain inside every person in that room forever, "It's beginning." Keith saw Zethrid in his mind's eye, _You have been summoned by Emperor Zarkon. It's beginning._

Time sped up, rapid under his rushing feet. It felt as if the entire ship was set on hyper speed, so fast it was like it was going to travel to another dimension, and he swore it _trembled_ with it. Lance was running behind him, worn and out of shape from the time spent stagnant inside the cell and thus failing to keep the break-back pace.

"Keith, wait!" Lance shouted. "We need to think about this first!" Keith refused to let up. If anything, he pushed his legs harder, faster.

"What the hell is there to think about! They have Shiro!" He yelled back, the air burning his eyes until tears formed at the corners.

"And they're going to keep him if you don't _wait!"_ He insisted, snatching Keith's wrist and yanking him to an abrupt stop that sent them both sprawling onto the floor, tumbling over each other as they both fought for dominant gripping until Keith, surprisingly and definitely unwilling, was pinned underneath him, wrists held in place on the cold tile by Lance's hands. Even with Lance at a current disadvantage in strength, he had won over Keith, and he told himself it was because he was unfocused and worried, and did not let himself think about the body that was leaning on top of him, did not let himself think about all of the places their skin met or how everytime Lance took a deep breath, their chests ground together.

He leveled a look on Keith, his hair falling delicately around his face although dull and missing it's usual lustrous appearance. But even without Lance's usual bodily hygienic upkeep routines, he still appeared nothing short of radiant. And Keith _hated_ it.

"Keith, just this once I need you to stop being such a _hothead_ and _listen_." Keith felt his nostrils flare, but he finally quit his fruitless thrashing underneath him, silently agreeing to cooperate. "We need to be careful. If we're caught before we even get there, Shiro won't have a chance. We need to save our strength for him." Keith let his breathing steadily even out, and then he found himself nodding. For Shiro, he would continue to be patient, even though there were oceans of energy begging to be expended inside him; even though just laying there like this had his skin tingling, electricity under his skin.

Lance nodded, released his wrists and climbed off of him. "There," He smiled smugly to himself, dusting off his hands, proud he'd managed to tame Keith's temper. Once again, his impulse control was there, steady by his side. "See, this is why _I_ should've been picked for Black," He joked, nose stuck up as he proceeded to even his body with the wall. Keith resisted a snarky retort and followed Lance's lead, creeping around the corners of the ship's corridors.

"I would have respected its decision." The words were out before he could stop them. Lance abruptly stopped in his tracks and turned slowly to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in surprise, lips parted to attempt a flustered reply, and Keith found he felt nervous, too.

That was when it began. A great clanking sounded, numerous feet marching down the hallway towards them, and Lance jerked back to peak around the corner, assessing what was incoming and held up seven fingers. Keith took out his blade as Lance then put up five fingers, four, _thump_ , _thump_ , three, two, and Keith was lightning across the entryway, slashing through the front two Galra soldiers in one precise, clean swipe, their upper halves clanking to the ground as the others were just beginning to register anything had happened at all.

Keith was quicker. Nimble, smooth movements as his blade raced into perfect arcs, severing arms before the previous one could even hit the floor. Once the few remaining had regained composure, they grouped together to descend onto him, cornering him so he would no longer be able to dodge their bullets, but it was a mistake that would cost them.

Keith retracted the armor covering his stomach and let the reassuring weight of the red bayard fall into his palm as he looked to Lance, who was preoccupied with kicking a fallen Galra saying, _yeah, you'd better stay down_.

"Heads up!" Keith said, and he tossed the red bayard to a surprised Lance's awaiting hands.

He smirked and let his voice drop an octave, "You forgot this." Lance lowered his eyes as the weapon turned a familiar glow, Keith thrown back into the heat of defense, dodging and ducking, and Lance was taking aim.

"Keith, get out of the way!" He whined.

"A little busy!" He yelled, and a bullet hit its mark, blasting into his forearm. Pain erupted from his skin into the tendons and bone, and his fingers lost feeling for a moment, leaving Keith unable to do anything but watch as his sword clattered to the ground out of reach. "Lance!" He yelped, trying to keep his foes at bay with his fists. They moved closer and made a grab for him, so he lashed out with his legs and managed to keep one away, but the other one was now upon him, gun aimed dangerously close to his exposed skull, yet they did not shoot. Why did they hesitate?

There was a sound of metal grating on metal, groaning and creaking like a rusted gear, and Keith watched as a blade protruded from the soldiers chest, lifting its feet off the ground with the sheer force of the blow, and then the limp body was discarded like a fish on a toothpick, and there was Lance. Lance, wielding a long, shining red sword, looking down at it in wonder.

They met eyes briefly in question before he turned to lay into the last soldier that was taken care of just as quickly as the first. Keith realized that if they hadn't gotten the drop on the troop, that fight would definitely not have gone as smoothly as it had. Lance was panting, sweat running down his face when he walked breezily to Keith's fallen blade, scooped it up, and tossed it to Keith who was only able to catch it with a last-second save.

"You forgot this," Lance said, and Keith growled, though it earned only a smile from the boy.

They continued down the hallway from where the soldiers had come, swords at the ready.

"Did this ever happen for you?" Lance whispered, and Keith shook his head.

"Looks like you need some tips in sword fighting," Keith said vainly.

"Like I'd take any from you!" Lance contested, earning a chuckle from Keith. "Well, actually. . ." Keith raised his eyebrow. "Could you show me that cool spin and backward slash you do?" Lance said, sounding near praising and Keith felt absolutely elated, his cheeks heating with it.

"Only if you show me how to shoot," Keith said, and Lance looked over at him then, unsure, and then he smiled.

The moment was interrupted. Both of their heads snapped away at the muffled, distant, collective scream, a crowd waiting for the first act to come on stage. The matches were beginning, and things were going very far from what they'd planned.

Especially when the second wave hit.

They had been proceeding cautiously, but it would not matter. There was nothing that could be done when the miniature army spotted them. They were lined up in perfect, precise rows, and Keith's nerves were frayed so badly he could barely move except to in front of Lance as if the boy really needed protecting. It was more of a comfort to himself.

"Keith?" Lance said from behind him.

Maybe he said it as a last word exchange if the soldiers decided to shoot. Surrender was their only option and they both knew it. They did not stand a chance, and Keith thought that perhaps their intent was not to kill, but only capture based on the previous fight, however, either would result in failure. They were cornered like rats.

"Thanks for coming for us," He said. It was easier for his next words to come out because he did not have to look him in the face.

"I'll always come for you," He said, and whether he meant _you_ as in all of them or _you_ as in just Lance, only Lance, of _course_  Lance, it did not matter. The soldiers came to them as an exterminator comes to a cockroach beneath its shoe, and they held up their empty hands with the red lasers kept trained on their heads, and Keith would not risk any retaliation because he could not risk Lance's life. He could not risk his own, because if he did not make it then Shiro would not either.

Their wrists were not even bound as they were ushered through more corridors until they began a slow descent towards the sounds of the crowd. Finally, they came upon a long, dark hallway, one that was like where the star football player would always gather his nerves before walking onto the field. Keith could not help but feel this was according to plan, however it was a plan that was not their own.

"Keith?" Lance squeaked. "Did we die back there somewhere? Is this hell?"

"If it is," Keith said, and pressed his side into Lance's, assuring himself he was still there, that they were in this together. "I'm going to drag us back home."

The ceiling of the room shook as a sliver of harsh, yellow light beamed out and then widened, up and up, until they were both shielding their eyes with their arms as they submerged into it, soldiers shoving barrels into their backs and forcing them onward to find the ground turn from metal to packed dirt, and the walls were filled, not a space left unoccupied, of cheering Galra.

Keith and Lance looked up as a heavy door fell shut behind them, sealing them inside the ring of the Gladiator grounds, and their eyes landed on Zarkon, sitting poised light-years away like a god that was holding a magnifying glass to ants, and behind him stood Lotor, stoic, and at the right hand was Haggar.

They stayed close together in defense, back-to-back. Keith's heart was a wild thing in his chest: it seemed to beat in rhythm with the pounding of heels, and his eardrums were pulsing in the shrillness of the screams, the excitement of the audience that was here to watch their two matadors be ripped apart by the bulls. Something stirred up the dirt on the other side of the ring, a door opening agonizingly slow as a shape began to reveal itself from the inside.

Lance was gazing up at the crowd in wonder and amazement, their weapons unsheathed and ready to face whatever Zarkon was going to throw at them.

"Well," Lance said, eyes glittering, mouth grinning predatorily. It was a large transformation from his previous downcast look. Perhaps it had something to do with Keith's words, perhaps it did not. He would not allow himself to dwell on it. "Time to razzle-dazzle."

And then Shiro emerged.

### 


	14. Last

###### Twisted - MISSIO

_I do not know yet. But be prepared._

The world crashed into her all at once and remade itself in an instant. What was she to do?

There was no longer any plan, no ship to take control of, no rebellion to lead. Shiro had been swiped from right under her nose, why had she not been more careful? She had been too secure in the notion that Zarkon would not interfere in her work since Shiro had been her project, not his, but at the worst time possible he'd chosen to stick his nose somewhere it did not belong. Now Pidge and Hunk would be left unattended to their own devices, trying to come up with any possible solution to the problem that was all of their lives.

It was pointless to dwell on it. She found herself walking idly down the corridors, hands tucked securely together inside her drooping sleeves, and it was with Acxa and Ezor that she proceeded to Zarkon's esteemed champions box.

This was not how things were supposed to be.

Ezor spoke eagerly to Acxa from behind her, "Don't look so down, Acxa. We're about to see our first ever match first row."

"It's not exactly my idea of entertainment," Acxa mumbled.

"You don't have an idea of entertainment," Ezor prodded, but Acxa ignored it. "Come on, at least we can brag to all those other snobby generals. Maybe if we spit off of the balcony it'll land on one of them." Acxa chuckled dryly.

"Maybe I'll accidentally drop my knife over the side, then." Ezor laughed, unaffected or slightly unaware, or maybe just unconcerned of Allura's impending doom.

The ground reverberated as the girls approached the enormous, ominous doors that opened gradually at her presence, but as soon as they were divided, the sounds of the adjacent room were echoing off every wall, leaving her stomach feeling sick with it.

Zarkon sat with his back to her, arms leisurely placed on the throne's armrests, and behind him was Lotor, his hands clasped tightly together behind his back. Allura sidled in, silent, as Ezor and Acxa saluted dutifully.

"High Priestess has arrived at your request, my liege," Acxa says evenly despite Ezor making funny faces behind Zarkon's back. Allura proceeded on wobbly, newborn legs to Zarkon's right side into her assigned place. The black bayard once again was set on his wide armrest, waiting. From there she could see every inch of the stadium, and she could see the high, transparent ceilings that let in the darkness of space, but also the illumination of every nearby star.

"Good," was all Zarkon said, never moving his eyes from the arena. Acxa and Ezor moved to take Lotor's side.

Ezor mutters softly, "Do you think there's somewhere just a teeny bit higher?" Acxa shushes her.

Zarkon's pointer finger tapped idly. "Brief me on your progress on Project Kuron," He said. Allura's heart was palpitating as her mind searched for any hint as to what that could be, but she'd never seen the word, and even if she had she would've never been able to decipher it in a foreign written language.

"It is showing remarkable results," She said vaguely. The room felt so hot it was smothering and her robes felt too itchy, too tight, too heavy.

"Indeed, it will," He said, and then he turned slowly to her, a shifting boulder, and his purple, piercing eyes pinned her in place. "though there is not anything you could say that I do not already know." And Allura swore she saw him grin before he turned away and the crowd began to whoop and holler expectantly, clapping and cheering as every single being in the room rose to their feet.

"Tell me," Zarkon spoke as the doors on one side of the ring's wall began to open. "What is it like to live as scum?" Allura's breath halted inside her, and she turned to Zarkon and felt the presence of every person in that tiny, secluded box go still. "Tell me, son," His voice rose, though not enough to draw the attention of any member of the rowdy nearby crowd. "What is it like to have every pitiful attempt you make thwarted? What is it like to live in anothers shadow?" Allura turned backward to look at Lotor for the first time since she'd entered to find him already looking down at her, his eyes wide with nothing other than fear and regret, and he mouthed to her, _I'm sorry._

There was movement on the field, and she jerked to it to see forms emerging, _familiar_ forms, and Zarkon spoke, "Foolish girl."

Binds appeared from her chair, wrapping around her legs just as she was rushing to her feet, and it was Keith and Lance, specks on a great expanse, huddled against each other inside of the death ring, and across the way, they stared at Shiro.

It was Acxa who broke the stillness, her body jolting forward at the sight of Keith, but the movement was stifled. Lotor's hand had gone to her wrist, though he did not look at her, and Acxa looked down at where his fingers held her flesh in disbelief.

"Stand down," He said breathily, though not demanding, more pleading. "This is for the best, Acxa. It is a kindness to him." Acxa's eyes went deathly cold, and she ripped her arm away from him like his fingers had burned and whirled to Allura.

"I answer to you, princess," She said, and Allura saw desperation behind the anger. Her blood ran cold in her veins, her thoughts slow with the freeze and the fear, and in her heart, she felt pain, complete anguish, that those words had come from Lotor's mouth, that he still saw death a greater kindness, that he would not choose mercy. Had it all been a lie? A trick of the heart?

Zarkon was unmoving in his chair, simply watching and listening calmly. "When he is dead," he said. "The black lion will come." Allura moved against her binds, finding them tight and secure around her.

"The black lion will never answer to the likes of you," She spat.

"Perhaps that is true," He said, and then he stood, a mountain looking down at a hill, and turned to a panel attached to his arm on his burly armor. "But he will come to someone." He said, and then there was an echoing groan as the open windows of the emperor's box were sealed shut.

Lotor stepped backward in surprise and uncertainty, "Father, surely you could not think—"

"Did you think it would go unnoticed? Did you truly believe anything aboard this ship could go on without my knowledge?" He taunted them, and Acxa was the only one out of them who was ready to defend, to fight, placing herself protectively between Allura and Zarkon. Allura had never felt more helpless, she had nothing, no weapons, no magic, nothing. She had walked right into her own snare, and now she was looking into the eyes of her Hunter with wide, innocent eyes as if he would spare her, but she would not make the same mistake twice.

"I see," Lotor said, and something seemed to settle inside him. He stopped cowering like a child and straightened, raising his chin. "In that case, we will fight with honor and we will see which of us is worthy."

Zarkon's form began to shake, rumbling as an earthquake began, and Allura thought he was laughing. "There will be no fight. Gods do not come down from their pedestals to sort out mundane conflicts, _Gods_ do not interfere with something as trivial as mans childish desires." He stayed still, moving fingers over the pad on his forearm seemingly absentmindedly. "They just watch."

Her vision exploded. White light erupted and before she knew it she was on her knees, groaning, her skull aching, and she could see it, a pure being, a _real_ God tapping on the window to her soul to be let in. Fear had her body quaking all over, her fingertips grinding so hard into the floor she felt her fingernails crack, and with a rough, painful exhale she let it in.

It pounced on her, _into_ her, and she felt like she could _roar_. _My Little Lionheart,_ her father stroked her hair lovingly, and she was not some prey to be led to slaughter. She was a _lion_ , and she bared her teeth.

Allura turned sharp eyes onto Lotor. He was on his knees, gasping, tears streaking down his face, and his body was actually writhing in agony like his very being was fighting the world for a place in it.

"Lotor!" She yelled, even though she could see Zarkon's feet approaching her, even though her legs had been released and she was free. "It's _your_ magic, Lotor, not his!" She attempted to help him, because despite everything that had happened she did not want to see him suffer like this, even though it was likely too late for him. She wondered if she could have done more, she wondered if this would not have happened if she had not trusted him to change.

He stopped screaming momentarily, though he panted heavily, sweat and blood dripping from his mouth onto the floor. "Victory," Spittle flew through his teeth. "Or death." Zarkon moved away from Allura and instead towards Lotor, and he took his son into his gigantic, unnatural hands and throttled him until Lotor was clawing at them desperately, frantic, and Allura never thought she would once again see Lotor at his father's mercy.

"You will die for the very reason you have always been my biggest disgrace, half-breed," He spat. "I will not see your face among the life-givers of Oriande when I destroy the last existing remnant of Altea with the Black Lion." Zarkon twisted Lotor's face as if examining him. "The perfected Patrulian energy will drive out your very life force, _monster,_ until you are nothing more than a hollow shell," He said and threw the boy onto the ground. His body hit the floor with a harsh _thump_ , and Zarkon was swaggering over to him, all the time in the world to destroy his only son, and now privately for no prying eyes to tell of their ruler's unwavering cruelty.

Suddenly Acxa was there, her eyes aglow with resolve as she searched Allura's face before yanking her to her feet. The pressure was still there, though not near as prominent as last time, a force weathered and dulled. Perhaps this was what Zarkon meant by perfected, the energy fixed to do exactly what they wanted it to, bending this ethereal magic to their own will. It had been foolish to think that he did not have more energy than the capsule they'd discovered, it was foolish to think that they had been doing nothing for 10,000 years. But she would not bend over and take it. She would not die to her own magic.

Allura said it without thinking, "We must save him." The words were choked, weaker than she hoped, but Acxa was nodding already.

"Then we will," she said.

Lotor coughed from the ground. "Does the memory of power haunt you?" He rasped. "Is that why you strive for Voltron _so desperately?_ You mock me for my blood, yet desire the power of its creation far more than anything," He said, standing up from his place on the floor unsteadily, his body still struggling to adjust to the energy. He still seemed to be at war with it, an internal battle waging inside him, but the man persisted nonetheless. Allura began walking forward, fists curled, unable to watch from the sidelines any longer when Acxa put her hand out to stop her.

"Just wait," She said, and Allura looked back to Lotor as he wiped his dirtied mouth.

"You're weak, father," He said. "Without the Black Lion, you're nothing. Without the black bayard, you're nothing." And then his eyes flicked to Acxa, who was lowering herself, her gun poised and ready. Allura took up stance next to her. "Therefore, _you are nothing."_ And then Zarkon's mouth opened and he whirled around just as Acxa rang off the first shot that ricocheted off his armor, as did the next dozen she fired.

Zarkon bellowed, "Where is it!" and Lotor's sword came free in a quick, blue slash and he was striding toward his father, relishing the moment. Allura felt her palms heat at the sight of his face, the way his eyes seemed to glow, the way his mouth was curling in a wicked sort of delight.

The emperor lashed out in a mad, sloppy defense against Acxa, a great swipe against her that sent her body slamming against the wall. She hit the floor as Lotor's sword attempted a strike against Zarkon, but he was quick to defend against it. Lotor took the return blow full on, pressing his sword against the solid armor, and it was then that Allura's own magic responded.

It slammed into Zarkon, blowing him backward a full couple steps, and the air in the room pulsated with life, an incessant thrum. Lotor continued to wail on his father, and Allura approached beside him, ramming hot power into his body that seemed to chip away at him, boiled the purple quintessence stored in his suit. He was yelling in fury, cratering the metal of the ship where his missed blows landed.

"Where have you put it!" He shouted as Lotor's sword slashed the ground at Zarkon's feet. Allura shot more into his chest, an extension of herself like her whip had been and felt it hit home. The plate cracked under the force, but Zarkon did not react. Lotor continued fighting with eternal grace and wore him down bit by bit, and together they tore him down panel by panel.

"It is with the people you left to die, father," Lotor said, landing a blow into one of the capsules on Zarkon's back, liquid seeping out through the cracks. "But I will finish you here first!" But Zarkon was already tapping into the keypad, and just like that the room was open again and Allura felt the intensity of it decrease, a balloon releasing air as the energy flowed out for the entirety of the Galra ship to fall victim to.

And then Ezor was there, materialized out of nothing from Acxa's side holding the black bayard, and with an easy, relaxed movement delivered it to Lotor.

He took it up securely into his hands, and Zarkon's fists balled at the realization of the dirty trick, the sacrifice of every weak-willed Gladiator attendee and every eye of his loyal entourage.

"Now," Lotor said as it transformed into its true, formidable form. "Your 10,000 years will be but a blip on my upcoming era." And he surged forward, the room now open once again for all to witness, and drove the black bayard deep into the Emporer's gut.

The man fell forward at the blow, sputtered a purple substance like an empty, dried up well and Allura's magic had settled inside her, leaving her feeling empty. If a wind had blown it would whistle with her hollowness as Lotor said, the very last thing he would say to his father, "Vrepit Sa."

And then the empire crumbled.

### 


	15. Forget

###### You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison - My Chemical Romance

_We were like rivals, you know? Lance and Keith, neck and neck._

Keith's breath was a fleeting, undependable thing. He felt the contents of his lungs dissipate, and he felt Lance's hand come out to search for Keith's, and then he felt the boy's fingers curl around his own, hot and slick with sweat.

He squeaked, "Keith—"

"I know," He said weakly, and they both saw Shiro stumbling around seemingly blindly, falling forwards and feeling along the ground before standing shakily back up again. He looked up and around him as if he was a newborn seeing the world for the first time.

That was when Keith's body reacted. He gripped Lance's hand absentmindedly and then they were running across the arena, dust floating up and around them, and Lance was gasping for air as they slowed to a hard stop in front of Shiro. He gazed back at them with his eyebrows furrowed in something almost maniacal and stumbled a step away from them, his hair frenzied and fists clenched.

"Shiro," Keith attempted, his voice gravelly. People began throwing things from the stands, unidentifiable objects whizzing past their heads, and Shiro was swatting them away fervently. "It's alright, we're going to get out of here." He took a delicate step toward him, but Shiro only took two more back.

"Keith," Lance said softly from behind him. "It's not Shiro." Keith ignored this and continued trying.

"Listen to me," He said. "You have to calm down, Shiro. We won't leave you alone here. We're with you." Shiro's eyes were darting every which way, his breathing erratic, and then he began shaking his head.

"No," Shiro said. "No, no, no." His hands wound into his hair, yanking at it, and Keith finally got close enough to Shiro, releasing Lance's hand, and gripped Shiro's wrists.

"Stop it," Keith said, pulling his hands away from his head. "Stop! Please!" Shiro was writhing, twisting and turning to get away from him. Keith felt Lance's back press into his own.

"Keith!" He said, and Keith whipped his head around and he heard himself whimper. All around the ring, doors were opening and aliens were pouring in, all unrecognizable species, no one like the other. Some resembled humans in build, but not in color or facial features and others looked more like animals, like beasts. However, they had something in common: their prisoner's garb. It made the paladins stick out like a sore thumb, but they did happen to all share one thing.

All of them were hunched and ready to attack. "I think the show is about to begin," Lance said, and Keith looked to Zarkon's seat but found he could not be seen anymore, sealed behind some sort of barrier. His heart skittered thinking of Allura trapped in there, but that was honestly the least of his worries at the moment.

Keith's grip around Shiro's wrist was ripped away, and he felt himself being shoved away by the man's own hands, falling back only to be caught by Lance, and Shiro's nostrils were flared, his mouth turned up in nothing less than a snarl.

"Stay away from me," He said and ran to meet the enemies head-on as if he was a starved lion who smelled meat but wanted to see the blood. The two forces clashed in a bright glow, his arm cutting and hacking through the lifeforms as if they were butter, and Keith felt bile rise in his throat. After fighting armored Galra and robots for so long, he was not used to the sight of blood spilling.

Lance pulled Keith to his feet. "We need to get out of here," He said.

"I'm not leaving without Shiro!" Keith yelled, and steeled himself against the gore, gripping his blade with two hands once again and prepared for the next onslaught.

"Well, I'm not leaving without you!" Lance said and formed up on his back once again. "So like. . . don't die!" He said, and Keith could see the aliens approaching, some with looks of glee and others of dread, but all ready to fight.

"Wasn't planning on it," Keith said, and very tall green alien attacked him, and he met their blows easily, for they were only prisoners, not all warriors. The smoothness with which his blade sliced into them was sickening. Taking a life should not have been so effortless, yet here he was. But of course, what would he not do for his friends? What would he not sacrifice? Even if that was his humanity, he would offer it up eagerly if it only meant they would live. He would let none of them become a martyr to this cause. If nothing else was his, he supposed this war was.

The people fell one by one. Lance's new broadsword cut through them breezily, as if he'd grown up with a blade in his hand and Keith had to admire how quickly he picked up new skills. They were a fighting, synced force that went through their enemies layer by layer until there were none to stand against them. Lance and Keith, neck and neck. Lance and Keith, back to back. Until the bodies littered the floor, until Keith's sword was coated in blood and flesh, until Lance fell to his knees in despair, in pain, in regret that he had slaughtered these people. And for what?

"Keith," He choked out, his sword clanking to the ground, and Keith's knees felt wobbly but he stayed standing if only to look strong to Lance, if only to face their true challenge.

Shiro stood a ways away from them, liquids dripping from his arms and his hands, and Keith wondered what the point of that massacre was. For entertainment? Punishment? He would see their faces for the rest of his life, wonder what planet they'd come from and how long it took for all of their hopes to be stolen until they were willing to do the unthinkable. Did that mean Keith had lost all hope, too? Or was it hope that drove him?

"Get up," Keith said to Lance as Shiro began walking to them. "We're not finished yet." Lance was shaking his head, slouched and weak.

"I don't think I can—"

"I need you, Lance," Keith said, and the boy looked up at him, eyes bleary and cheeks streaked with tears. Keith tried to swallow the dryness in his throat. Lance sucked in his lower lip but nodded and wiped his eyes before getting to his feet, and Keith left him there to meet Shiro in between. "Shiro!" He shouted as the man continued towards him to meet in the middle, unwavering. "I need you to listen to me! Do you remember those times at the Garrison together? Do you remember the first time we met?" Shiro's eyes stayed blank, unrecognizable in their hostility. "I'll never forget the look on your face when I told you I punched Iverson in the face for bad-mouthing you. I'll never forget the first time you told me you didn't have much of a family either, and I'll never forget when you said I was the closest thing you'd ever had to one!" Keith said, and they clashed as Shiro's arm lashed out in a purple arc towards Keith, but his Marmora blade met the crude metal and they stood there, strengths fighting for the upper hand.

"Shiro, I know you're in there," Keith said desperately as the confrontation split, and Shiro was swinging again only to be blocked, and this continued, again and again until sweat poured down Keith's face, and he was panting so hard the air seemed to rattle inside of him. "Please," Keith begged. "Please, Shiro, come back. I won't kill you. I would never hurt you!" He says, and then Shiro's hand comes to Keith's throat, viper fast, and he's coughing and choking, and all he can feel is the finger's digging deeper, harder until he thinks his esophagus is going to collapse—

The butt end of Lance's sword smashes into Shiro's head, and he falls down, dropping Keith onto his back on the dirt. Keith sputters out spit and blood, gulping in the oxygen that stings his airway, and Lance is standing protectively in between Keith and Shiro. He shakes his head as if it's in a haze, confused as he looks around, but then he looks back down to Keith and his eyes once again go dark.

He rushes forward and attacks Lance full power, and Lance grunts with the force of it, but holds against him nonetheless while the blade shudders. "Sh—" Keith's voice cracks. "Shiro, please, stop," He gasps painfully, and tries once to get up, falls down, gets back up again. His arms are on fire, limp at his sides before he forces them to pick up his sword once again, but he feels no comfort in its weight.

"It's not Shiro, Keith! This isn't our friend!" Lance screams. Their movements are almost impossible to follow, blurs between bodies.

Keith persists. "Do you remember when they strapped you to that table? Do you remember when Lance and I got you out of there? Shiro!" And then Lance was falling backward onto his hands, and Shiro was descending onto him, his arm going for an exposed throat like he was planning to rip it out with his own fingers, savage.

His legs pumped him forward, and his body slammed into Shiro's before contact could be made, and they were rolling around, struggling against each other, but Keith's body felt like lead. His movements were slow, his reactions always almost a second too late, until they were. Shiro was on top of him, much like Lance had been earlier, and Keith's arms were pinned under his back. Keith searched Shiro's face for something, any sort of remnant to the man Keith knew so well, but there was nothing. It was a stranger filled with malice and bloodlust who looked back.

Shiro's Galran arm lights up, ablaze with potential energy, and then it's shooting towards Keith's chest, and he wonders, perhaps it is better this way, and he thinks, at least it was I and not him, but then the attack is halted mid-swing, and a blade shoves it's way through his friends chest, thick and unforgiving.

"No." Blood falls from Shiro's mouth on to Keith's face and his arm loses its vibrant glow before falling limp, and the rest of his body follows suit. Shiro's chest collides with Keith's, knocking the breath out of him as his head rests on Keith's shoulder, and all Keith sees is Lance standing above them, blade still pointed down towards his chest, still covered and dripping with the fresh, new substance.

The people in the stands scream so loud Keith's ears ring, and Keith can hear the unnatural sounds he's making, like a cat under a tire, and he sees Lance's face contorted with anguish, but he can not bring himself to register the emotion. He sees the three of them there in a very detached way, Shiro's body on top of his, Lance standing over them, like a ghost observing a sad mortal life. His chest has caved in on itself. He feels his own puke choking him, and he lets his eyes slide from Lance's face to the transparent ceiling and the great expanse of space beyond, and every faraway, unreachable star.

That is when the stars come to him. A blazing white light fills the room, unlike anything he has ever seen before, and his body feels invigorated by it, a sponge in water. It curls and wraps around every being, every body and mutilated vessel in a warm, sure embrace, and he hears a harsh, wet cough beside his ear.

"I never forgot, Keith," Shiro says. Keith gasps and Lance is there in an instant, his tainted sword discarded, helping Keith roll Shiro off of him gently onto the dirt, and Shiro's eyes are clear again, and out of all the expressions, he's smiling. It is only there for a moment before it falls completely, the muscles forever relaxing, and his eyes go blank, but in a different way. Keith feels the tears in his eyes before he can stop them, and before he knows it he's sobbing, unable to suppress it, but he will not be allowed to indulge in the new emotion.

Chaos erupts. Lance looks up at the stadium to see Galra fighting each other mercilessly, tossing bodies from the stands as if they were old dolls before jumping down themselves to continue the altercation. In the Emperor's box Zarkon was in, only Axca, Ezor and Allura remain. Keith pulls Shiro's body closer to his, unwilling to let any hand disgrace him, unable to separate himself from it.

It was then that Hunk deigned to join them. The yellow lion came crashing into the arena and landed softly beside them, swatting Galra out of the way like vultures to a corpse, keeping them away from the three of them.

"Guys!" Hunk's voice yells from inside of the lion. "Did the energy reach here? It was released all over the ship! There's anarchy on every corner! And the force of it has been attracting—" There was a resounding boom throughout the entire room, and Keith looked up through the glass and into the sky, and there he saw the green lion blasting meteorites into small, manageable pieces before they tore a hole into the ship. "Those!" Hunk said. "Pidge's dad let us get our lions, and all of them were there except, well, yours!" Lance stood while Keith picked up Shiro's body, cradled it gently to his chest, willed his own life force to flow into Shiro's as if that would make his eyes open once more. Hunk was spewing so much stuff he didn't understand, but there was no time to question it, no way to make sense of anything inside of his muddled brain.

"What? Whose?" Lance yelled, the voice of rationality where Keith's was absent.

"Yours! I mean, the blue lion and red lion!"

"Well, then where are—"

Keith was momentarily blinded. Something shined so brightly his eyes seared in pain, and he blinked through it until he saw something huge outside, something his brain could not connect with reality.

Outside the ship was an inferno of a white lion, shaped just like the other lions, except it radiated something powerful, something ethereal, something god-like. A hush fell over the arena before he heard Hunk's yells of distress and turned to see his lion in what looked to be a bow, the yellow lion's nose shoved harshly into the floor.

"I can't control my lion!" Galra began stalking towards them, the ones who were gutsier than their counterparts, the ones who were not afraid to look a guard in the eye as they stole, and Lance started to fight them off but was quickly overwhelmed before Hunk could get to them. Keith used the new power he'd absorbed to push his body up off the ground and to move quicker with the tremendous weight of Shiro's limp form, but none of them were quick enough. A blow landed on his back, and he feels the bullet go clean through his side through the already weakened armor, and then on his legs, cut down like a stalk of wheat, his knees meeting the dirt, but still, he held Shiro's body firmly in his arms.

And then it came as if beckoned, the blue lion, except it seemed. . . different. New as a heaven-sent soared to them.

Hunk was there next, taking Shiro's body unwillingly from Keith's arms, his blaster aimed at any nearby Galra.

"Go while you can! I've got Shiro!" Perhaps he did not register that Shiro's body was slack with death, not mere unconsciousness. Perhaps he did not allow himself to think of the possibility, as was Keith's brain, falling over itself to connect the images of the Shiro that smiled at him, the Shiro that had almost killed him, and the Shiro that had died on his back in the dirt of a Galra ship.

The white lion was still outside, just floating there as if waiting for something, watching, and then they all saw it.

Outside, a planet stood: one of green grasses and white, fluffy clouds, and a bright, tiny moon. Earth was a painful punch to the gut, and Keith thought he was going to heave. _Home_ , he thinks. _We're going home, Shiro._ He wonders if Shiro's soul would find it's way there. He wonders who his heart will visit in death.

"Please," Hunk said. "Tell me I'm colorblind and that is not Earth." Lance was moving then, quickly to Keith's side, hauling him to his feet by putting his arm supportively over his own shoulder.

"Lance," Keith groaned. "I can't leave him. . ." He coughed with the effort of speech.

"Come on, buddy," Lance said, practically dragging him toward the blue lion. "I've got you." Just as they approached the entrance, something huge fell from the Emperor's box, and there was not a head that did not turn.

They both watched in bewildered silence as Zethrid tossed Zarkon's body from the top of the stands, and they watched as it fell mercilessly to the hard ground. Some screamed. Others cried. But most just continued fighting as if it was the only thing they knew how to do.

Lance began tugging Keith forward again to the lion, and he let himself be carried along until his other side was lifted, too, and he turned to see Acxa, bloodied and scraped, steady beside him. They walked up the blue lion's ramp and set Keith delicately onto the floor, and Keith did not realize he was still crying until he felt Acxa wipe his tears away.

"I'm proud of you, too," She said, and then stood and ran off into the heat of the war inside the Emperor's ship.

Lance was in the pilot's seat now looking very distressed as the ramp came up and sealed them inside.

"Uh, Keith?" Lance said. "I don't have the blue bayard, so. . . Here goes nothing." He shoved the red bayard into the compartment, and then the screen to see outside lit up red before turning back to normal, except everything was now cast in a strange purple hue. The dashboard lit up, and they were lifting off the ground when Pidge's voice cut into the comms.

"—The hell is that thing anyway?! It looks like it's charging something up and it's aiming at the ship! What do I do? Hunk! Do you copy?" She yelled.

"Pidge, it's Lance!"

"Lance! Do you see this? There's a white lion outside and it looks like it's going to—" Lance whirled the lion around and yelled into his intercom system toward Hunk. He was now side by side with Zethrid, who had Shiro's body held in one hand.

"Hunk! Get in your lion, now!" Hunk acknowledged and began inching backward with Zethrid into his lion. "Where is Allura?" Hunk gave a large shrug.

"Lance, do something! Help me with these asteroids, I can't let them touch the ship! It's my dad, please, Lance, I—"

"I can't do anything, Pidge, I don't know how to get out of here!" He shakily tried directing the lion, but the controls were going haywire, uncooperative.

"I've got it!" Hunk said from inside the yellow lion and began to take off back into the ship's bowels from where he'd come, but it was too late. The white lion opened its great jaw, and a blast came from it, a huge white beam that went through the entirety of the ship.

"No! I can't let my dad die—!" Her voice cut out, and Keith stumbled to Lance's side to look into the endless expanse of white, and it was like they had walked into a heaven. Perhaps they really had died back there.

All around them were the dead. They rose up like ghosts, every prisoner and Galra they'd butchered that night, and Keith's heart was in his throat as he saw Shiro's body become filled with the light, wrapping around him in a tight cocoon until filling him completely and settling him gently back onto his feet.

Shiro looked over at them, and Keith and Lance found they were no longer inside the blue lion at all, but standing on some other plane of existence with him.

"Find me again," Shiro said. "Keith." And then he blinked, flickered out like a dying star.

"As many times as it takes," Keith said, and felt Lance's hand join Keith's as they were thrown back into reality, back into the pilot's seat of their lion. They were no longer on the ship at all: outside the window was only endless void. There was no Earth in sight.

Lance was beside him, analyzing Keith's face as he gave a watery cough.

"We—" Lance cleared his throat. "We do make a good team." Keith's mouth fell open, speechless, until curving up into a smile. He thought of Shiro, of the new hope all of that had given him, of the sweet light that had filled him up and empowered him, and all of the souls that no longer had to wander, and knew no matter what, he would find him again. Their lion was on auto-pilot, racing towards an unknown destination, but they trusted it would take them where they needed to be.

Keith felt his own blood traveling down his back, registers his vision blackening at the edges as Lance begins searching around the ship for something that could help staunch it, but Keith knows that right now, he just needs to bleed.

"So you do remember," He mumbles. Lance cocks his head.

"I never forgot."

### 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope yall caught all of the stuff coming full circle!! lance telling keith he needs him in the first ch to keith telling lance he needs him in the 15th chapter ,, the white lion, lance saying IVE GOT U BUDDY , acxa saying "im not here to wipe you tears" and then doing exactly that, and then finally lance admitting he never forgot the bonding moment at all thus showing how much hes grown up :') i lov


	16. Mother

###### Wait a Minute! - Willow Smith

 _But, Princess, I need you here. Without you_ — 

Zarkon's body was a doll onto the dirt. Seismic waves spread out from the impact and there was not a single person that did not feel it's reverberation. Breaths caught in throats, hearts stopped in chests, but Lotor was not among those. His blood forever pulsed in his veins as he gave a feline grin to his comrades, the black bayard glinting menacingly in his hands. Allura was the shell of a woman on her knees, but she forced her body to stand when she witnessed the moon-like image of the white lion standing guard in the sky. Its eyes were cold and remote, but she swore they stared only at her.

"Allura," Lotor said, stepping in front of her. "We must defeat it to be accepted."

"No," She says confidently. "We must  _ _be__ it." Allura steps around his hard, stoic body to open her arms wide as the lion's great maw extends, revealing the white, Patrulian light that had haunted her for so long now. But she knew now that she was not meant to fear it. She was meant to overcome that fear, and she was meant to rule it.

"I was almost killed by that very light! I will not lose you to it!" Lotor yelled, but even he knew there would be no way to shield her, to cover any of them. The lion was a great celestial body, too big for most minds to comprehend, much less control.

"There is no risk if you will only listen to me," she says. Ezor and Acxa are staring deeply at each other when they both, too, open their arms wide to receive this gift on the floor of the stadium. The blue lion floats down and swallows Keith and Lance whole.

"I," Lotor growls. "Shall never yield." And then the beam is shot, white and hot through the entirety of the ship. She feels as if it's circumference could have consumed whole solar systems, entire galaxies, yet when Allura reopens her eyes, she is no longer in space.

It is a new dawn. The world is only white, her feet seemingly connecting with nothing more than air, and that is when her eyes meet Zarkon's.

He seems much smaller, like a weight has been lifted off of him, and his face is one Allura knew only in her distant memories.

"Where is she?" Zarkon asks, his voice echoing.

"Where is whom?" Allura asks.

"Honerva. She should be here. . ." His eyes leave hers, searching aimlessly among the vast space.

"Why do you say such things?" Allura asks before the world fades before her eyes, and Zarkon's body slips away from her into the inky black. It is a moment before her body registers it is now sitting, and the pristine, tangible white that now surrounds her is something familiar.

She looks around inside the compartment and finds her hands around levers, a blinking dashboard and the planet approaching from outside her window.

"The white lion," Allura whispers, and finds the words do not feel to herself.

"Indeed," Lotor says from behind her, and Allura finds her hands clenching around her controls.

"How have you come?" She says. "You refused its offer. No matter. . . No matter what I said." Lotor's hand falls onto her shoulder, but she jerks it away.

"Perhaps it was not my time."

"Perhaps it is a greater punishment to remain alive than it would have been to release you." Allura sees Lotor's head fall, but she does not turn to him. She keeps her eyes ahead.

"Am I deserving of punishment? Would you feel relief should you scold me?" Allura scoffs.

"Scold you? You should be ashamed!" Allura sucks her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it from trembling. "Did you receive a pat on the back for jeopardizing my friends? Did he tell you, I am proud, my son, that you have finally been shaped further into my image?"

"I—"

"Did your heart shrivel when he called you scum, as mine did? Did it die as you said victory or death, as mine did?"

"I jeopardized myself to take the steps to do what was necessary."

"No," Allura said. "You risked my friends and have the gall to think yourself included." A breath passed before Lotor spoke, the first time unevenly.

"I shall not make that mistake again," He whispered. The planet approached quickly before Allura made a swift, easy landing. The lion felt like an extension of herself, a bond forged over millions of miles, strong as steel.

It was only a moment before the dust cleared and Allura registered precisely where her lion had taken her.

"Planet Arus," She whispered as the lion's ramp lowered, revealing the great expanse where the Castle of Lions had sat stagnant for 10,000 years.

"You know of this place?" Lotor questions as they set foot on the soft, cool soil.

"Quite intimately," she says, and from a distance she sees a figure approaching, running, spear in hand.

Their shouts reach them before they do: "The lion goddess has returned! The lion goddess has returned!" Allura sighs and continues to meet the Arusian halfway, trusting in the white lion's judgment that there is a good reason for the trip here. Perhaps one of the other Paladins ended up here, too. She can only hope it will not be like the last time they got split up.

Allura crouches to meet the Arusian. "Greetings, my friend. I am honored to be back on your planet." They fall into a bow at Allura's feet, not glancing towards Lotor.

"The honor is ours, your highness. We are so grateful your lion has finally found it's way to you. This was foretold by our ruler."

"Oh? Have your people moved past the sacrificial rituals?" The Arusian shook their head, not moving their eyes from the ground out of respect.

"Most certainly not, oh great one. We have a new ruler. A Queen, in fact, though she often neglects to admit so."

"A queen?" Allura asks. "I was under the impression your people were, er, rather androgynous." A head bob.

"She is not of our kind." Allura feels Lotor's eyes on her, but she keeps focused.

"May I request a meeting with your queen?"

"Of course, oh lion goddess. She will be delighted to finally meet you. Will your comrade be accompanying you?" Allura made a sour face.

"I suppose he must," She said, and the Arusian finally stood and began to lead her to their village. Lotor kept a safe distance behind her, too fearful of her reaction to push her right now. She felt the terseness of it, the uneasiness. It was a regression of everything they'd worked so hard for, and Allura hated every second of it.

The small civilization appeared over a great boulder, little homes and shops nestled inside a great crevice in the earth. Perhaps they thought it a better protection than their previous openness, a lesson learned the hard way.

The three of them continued through, and its people fell to their knees at the sight of her, kissed her shoe and her knuckles, tucked flowers into her hair. When their eyes fell on Lotor, they stood back onto their feet and huddled their bodies into each other, exchanged whispers. That is the image they projected.

A great structure formed in front of them, a building much larger than the others designed for the small form of an Arusian. This was big enough for all of the Paladins together with great, wide columns stretching across the front and small, elegant steps leading to a large set of dark brown double doors. Their Arusian guide knocked swiftly before falling back into a bow, and Allura and Lotor followed suit, tucking their helmets under their arms.

The doors slid open harshly, the shadow spreading over their three forms.

"Your Highness," The Arusian said. "I present to you, the lion goddess and her compatriot. The foretold has come to pass."

It was Lotor who looked up first, and the sound that escaped him was one Allura will never forget. When Allura raised her head, she saw a beautiful, young woman with rich brown skin and red Altean marks, her blue hair pulled back into a slick bun. Her eyes no longer shown a harsh yellow, but instead golden honey irises. And she was beautiful.

"Mother," Lotor said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! I am back from the dead to sayyyy, happy season 6 release day! I will now be including updated character quotes for the chapter introductions. Sorry for this long hiatus btw, but I'm hopefully back again for regular updates (probably weekly). I've also updated the tags and summary which is a nice refreshment to introduce this new arc! Thanks for sticking with me ily


	17. Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> possible tw // drowning, burning

###### Cleveland, OH - Little Brother

 _Keith! You_ _’re okay!_

Keith was fading. The world was in and out, lights flashing haphazardly overhead, sirens blaring.

“Keith! Are you there? Stay with me, buddy!” Lance was saying, slamming his fingers into buttons on the dashboard of his lion. “Why won’t this thing respond?!” He yelled. “I think we’re in for a rough landing!” Keith distantly felt pressure on his waist, and then his entire body was being hugged to Lance’s. “Try to hold on,” He said, and Keith tried to, he really did, but something in his body just wouldn’t respond. He remained limp when the impact hit, and their bodies were jostled backward inside the lion, Lance’s own protecting Keith’s from the blow.

The interior of the lion went blood red. Lance’s breathing was erratic. “Holy moly, we’re going to sink to the bottom.” Water sloshed against the sides, the front window pitch black in the depth. Lance looked down at him. “Keith? Are you listening?” His voice broke. “I’m getting us out of here.” His hand smashed against the wall of the lion, and the lights began blinking eerily. “Hold your breath.”

And then they were sucked out. The force of the door opening pulled them out of the lion, like Poseidon himself reached his great hand inside and plucked them with harsh fingers, but Lance held steady to Keith and began expertly swimming towards the surface, even with Keith’s body in tow. The amount of strength it must have taken to force not only his own body upwards but Keith’s dead weight was unimaginable, yet he persisted.

In the back of his mind, Keith was listening, and he kept his breath bottled up tight inside of him, no matter how much it burned. He stayed resilient for a while, but his mind was saying, __just do it, just one breath, just breathe,__ and suddenly Keith couldn’t take it anymore. His resolve did not hold, and suddenly his mouth was taking in a great gulp of ocean water, and he felt it burning inside of him, suffocating him, and he was sure he was going to die this way when they broke the surface.

“Keith!” Lance screamed, pulling them towards land. His body felt like it was going to sink, become one with the water and drop like a rock to the sea floor. “I told you to hold your breath, you idiot!” His hand was struggling to hit Keith on the back as if he could simply just cough up all that he’d taken in, as if even if he could, he would not further choke on it. Keith’s face felt numb, cold air crystallizing the freezing water on his cheeks.

“Please,” Lance was begging now, begging who, Keith did not know. “This is not how I wanted to see the ocean again,” he sobbed, cradling Keith’s body to his as the water was now thigh level, carrying Keith to shore. He laid him down on his back and turned his head to the side, allowing water to leak out of his agape mouth and nostrils. Quickly, Lance turned his head back up to the bleak, desolate sky and pinched his nose shut before bringing his mouth gently to Keith’s, the connection ruined by sandpaper mouths and desperate, frenzied breaths. His brain was on a constant lag as Lance put his ear to his mouth, his chest, squeezed his wrists with his fingertips to find the butterfly heartbeat fluttering beneath.

The solid rock dug harshly into his back as his body convulsed, coughing and spitting out gulps of water onto his chest and lap as he jerked up into a sitting position.

“Keith! You’re okay!” He proclaimed, a smile spreading across his face. “Just get it all out, man,” Lance said, patting him on the back. Keith’s throat felt raw as he finally registered the soft, petal light touch of snowflakes falling onto his cheeks, and the bits of white speckled in Lance’s hair. His vision was still blackening, his head felt like it was too large for his body, but he found his eyes would come to focus on Lance. “Come on, we have to find somewhere safe.” Lance was winding his arm under Keith’s, seemingly to get him to his feet, but the boy instead swept Keith up entirely to be carried in his arms. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” He said, and he did.

Keith did not know how long they traveled. The breach in his suit left his body quivering. He pictured the water seeping in, coating his limbs and freezing around his bones until everything would shatter like glass. The hallucinations threatened to overtake him when finally, as the light of the planet began to recede, they came upon the bones of something ancient.

“I feel like I’m in Jurassic Park,” Lance said as he carried them forward into the ribcage of a beast long dead. Keith felt his back connect with the hard ice, his head gently set down. “I never thought I’d say this, but please, say something,” Lance said. Keith’s eyes drifted from the bleak sky and the rotting bones to turn to Lance, looking down at him hopefully.

“If this is a movie, it’s Ice Age,” Keith coughed. Lance’s eyes narrowed.

“Alright, nevermind, I take that back. I’m going to try to start a fire.” Lance said, turning away from him, but Keith knew he was smiling. Despite the fact they were stranded on a random planet, would likely freeze or starve to death or maybe bleed out, Lance smiled.

It was a moment before he got a fire going. The warmth was so inviting Keith dragged his body towards it, his leg a dead weight inside his suit.

“I. . . I don’t know what to do,” Keith admitted. He’d never been severely injured like this, at least not without some sort of futuristic solution that would miraculously heal him. Sure, he’d gotten scuffed and bruised even before Voltron, but nothing of this caliber.

“We have to find another way to stop the bleeding,” Lance said, his eyes downcast.

“Like what,” Keith breathed. His dread was palpable. Lance was fiddling with his armor, tapping the metal with his fingertips.

“Cauterize,” Lance whispered, and Keith let his eyes fall shut.

“Just do it,” Keith said, his breathing becoming even more labored. There was a pause.

“You’ll have to. . . take your suit off,” Lance cleared his throat. Keith peaked an eye open.

“I’m going to freeze.”

“Well, I can’t get to it through your suit!” Lance kept his face turned purposely away from Keith’s, refusing to meet his gaze. He did not say a word as he retracted the pieces of his suit until he was left in only a loose black t-shirt and form-fitting pants.

“Alright,” Keith said as Lance held his suit’s arm over the fire. Once heated to his satisfaction, Lance began to inch over to Keith but refused to turn his head. “Lance, I’m not naked. Why would I not wear anything under my suit?” Lance stopped in his tracks and finally looked up.

“Oh,” He said. “Oh, yeah, duh. Right. Of course,” He choked uncomfortably.

“Lance,” Keith pressed.

“Nope, time to be quiet,” Lance said and took Keith’s leg in his hand. “Most of the blood seems to be coming from here.” Keith shut his eyes tight and turned his head away. “On three,” Lance said.

“No, not on three—”

“One,”

“Just do it, don’t—”

“Two,”

“Lance!” The heat seared his flesh and Keith cried out before he could stop himself, his skin was burning, __bubbling__ , and it took everything in him to keep from writhing or biting his tongue off to keep in the piercing screams.

“Stay with me!” Lance said, but Keith couldn’t. The black seeped in and he let it take him.

 

* * *

 

A frigid cold had worked it’s way to every inch of his body. As he awakened, he felt the bite of it in his nerves, as if even the blood in his veins was running slower. His eyes felt sewn shut, but he pried them open nonetheless.

The cave seemed to sing with the wind. It was small, with only a little bit of light trickling in through holes in the ceiling, yet the wind carried and traveled through the caverns to gather in this room. Snow-capped stalagmites sat threatening nearby, but Keith’s eyes found what they had been searching for.

Lance was in a small cove nearby, his wrists bound and hung up, feet dangling where they could not reach the floor. He was already squirming harshly, trying his best to wriggle out of the bonds hold, but to no avail.

“Hey, idiot,” Keith groans, and Lance’s head jerks over to Keith, who for some reason was only bound but not strung up. He likely would have died if he had been. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Lance says, turning away and continuing his struggle.

“It’s clearly not working,” Keith said, trying to subtly move his arms into a more comfortable position, his shoulders aching from their forced place behind his back. Stretching them to give as much room as possible, he bent his legs until his arms could pass to the front of his body and undoes the knot with his teeth. He chooses not to question why extremely advanced aliens would still be using something like a rope to capture someone.

“Why do naps make you more grumpy? Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”

“I don’t think it’s the naps.”

“Can you shut up?” Keith’s eyes drift to the forearm of Lance’s armor, stained with blood and melted flesh. His stomach turns, unable to suppress the reaction. He could not imagine how hard it must have been to continue despite Keith’s screams. . .

Keith began crawling towards Lance, still dragging his injured leg.

“What are you doing now?” Lance says, his eyes frenzied.

“I’m freezing,” Keith says.

“So?”

“Unlike you, I don’t have a death wish.” Keith stands very unsteadily next to Lance before grabbing onto his waist and putting all of his weight onto the pipe that’s suspending them both before it lets out one final whine and the metal gives. Lance’s feet hit the ground, and the pipe clatters onto the rock, Keith’s arms still around Lance. They’re panting when they both decide they want to be sitting again, even the smallest bit of exertion exhausting while their body is already giving so much energy to generate an iota of body heat.

“What now?” Lance says, trying to get a peek through the cave room’s only entrance.

“Just lay down,” Keith said, his body convulsing with a painful shiver.

“What?”

“I said lay down.”

“I heard you, I just—” Keith wrapped his hands around Lance’s waist again and forced them both into a laying position. Keith dug his face into the crook of Lance’s shoulder, but the metal of his Paladin’s suit was so cold his skin was going to stick.

“I’m not getting any warmth,” Keith said. “Your suit is going to make me die even faster.”

“Keith! Don’t say that,” He whined. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Just take it off,”

“What!” Lance yelped, red-faced, but perhaps it was just from the wind’s chafing. “I-I can’t just. . .”

“What’s your problem?” Keith retorted, an anger bubbling in him towards Lance for making everything so difficult.

“You’re my problem! I can’t just. . . do that,” Lance said, refusing to look Keith in the face.

“What are you __talking about?__ ” Keith said. “How can you walk around in a bathrobe but not take off your suit?”

“Because!” Lance huffs. “This is different! I wasn’t wearing my bathrobe for a certain someone. . .” At that, Keith’s cheeks heat, too.

“Dammit, Lance, just do it.” Keith turned his head away as Lance sighed and gave in, shedding the pieces of armor and letting them fall uselessly to the floor.

“Alright, alright, I’m done,” Lance said, and his body fell back on the cave floor. Keith turned his head to see Lance’s bare back, his arms covering himself protectively.

“What. . . the hell,” Keith said. “WHERE IS YOUR SHIRT.”

“I don’t wear a shirt,” Lance mumbled.

“WHY DON’T YOU WEAR A SHIRT UNDERNEATH YOUR ARMOR.”

“Because!” Lance shot back up to Keith, turning to face him angrily. “It chafes against me and it’s really hot in there, okay?” Lance admits begrudgingly.

“It’s __armor__ , Lance, not a body suit!”

“I know, I know! Just leave me alone,” Lance huffs. Keith sighs, and he struggles to keep his eyes on Lance’s face, struggles to not let them travel down his lean chest and to his hips. Instead, he lays down, closes his eyes and opens his arms wide, an invitation. A breath passes before he hears the shuffling, and a warm body settles itself in the space. Keith’s heart pounds, but he ignores it and instead occupies himself in finding every possible place to let their skin touch so maybe he can thaw himself out.

“Here,” Lance says, and his hands are taken in his hands, cupping them before being brought them to Lance’s mouth where he breathes hot air onto them. They stay like that for a while, sleep threatening to take Keith despite their hostage position, but he finds he’s comfortable anyways.

Time slipped away between loose fingers. Whenever he awoke, Lance was holding him, but he only let himself go back to sleep.

### 


	18. Fortune

######  Speak Softly - Picturesque 

_It is paramount._

Honerva’s head sank, her eyes wide and glistening.

“L. . . Lotor?” She said the word like it was a foreign language.

“So I am correct? You are Honerva?” She dipped her head. Lotor’s breathing had become unsteady. “I. . . I do not— I mean, I am unsure—”

“Let’s not say anything, for once,” She said, and she opened her arms wide and took a step forward. Lotor almost looked confused by the gesture before understanding registered and he took a single step forward, falling slightly into her so his head would come to rest on her chest. She wound her delicate, slender fingers into his hair. “Let this not be ruined by cruel words,” She whispered.

The Arusian rose and looked around sheepishly. “May I offer a beverage? An, er, icebreaker, as the Paladins once said?”

“You have ice here?” Allura asked as Lotor and Honerva separated.

“Let us go inside,” She said, and then her eyes finally found Allura. “Romelle. . . Is that you?” Allura schooled her features.

“I am her daughter,” Allura answered. The woman nodded sadly.

“I invite you two inside. I think it best we all speak.” She turned, strangely elegant and refined despite being a scientist more than she was ever a political figure. Perhaps she had always simply been naturally lovely. Lotor followed behind her, a stark comparison to his mother. Even now, he threw a glance to Allura, his eyebrows upturned in worry, mouth parted.

“Do not hesitate now,” Allura said under lowered eyes. She saw his throat bob before turning away, into the palace the late empress had earned for herself. The walls were made of tightly packed dirt, but there were windows that let in the sunshine and floors of smooth rock, and little, carved tables and chairs made by expert, caring fingers. There was no throne, only a long table with a single chair at the head.  
She led them into a smaller space, one with cushions scattered about the floor and a low sitting table in the center. An Arusian was already preparing a murky sort of beverage, three cups and saucers for them all. After they all settled awkwardly onto the pillows, they were left alone.

The first sound was Honerva sipping loudly from her cup. She cleared her throat.

“I made this recipe myself after doing some research on the flora nearby. The Arusians say that when you finish, the leaves left over at the bottom will tell your future. That is when I told them the white lion would come. However we know that that was not just some lucky intuition, but more a hypothesis.” Lotor’s eyes were set on the floor.

“Honerva?” Allura attempted to break the tension so Lotor would not have to. “I do not intend to be rude, but we are, well. . . eager to know of how you are here.” Honerva sighed.

“I know, I know. I was only trying to be cordial. Or more queenly. I suppose I should try harder, though.” She turned her head away. “The memories feel from another life. It was like I was watching from a distance. There is truly no comparison that either of you could understand.”

Lotor spoke. “We can. . . We can try.” Honerva looked to him and nodded.

“You can, but it will likely be falling on deaf ears. There is no way to explain what I did nor why, only that it was not really me. It was my body, but it was an empty one. There was no soul.” Her eyes stayed on Lotor’s but moved from him when she was finished with that last part. “It was you who saved me, Allura. Or your magic, rather.”

Allura straightened. “What do you mean?”

“When you struck out with your white magic. It was like I had been cleansed. And then the rest of the Patrulian energy was filtered into the room, I was cast away from there. I cannot scientifically or reasonably explain how or why I was placed here, only that the energy and your magic had something to do with it. Maybe they are one and the same.”

“Honerva, er— Mother,” Lotor said. “Are you implying Allura drove the quintessence out of you?” The woman nodded.

“It is the most viable conclusion I could draw. Magic is the only thing that defies reality and our ideas of the possible and impossible. It is something I dedicated many years trying to unravel, to no avail.” Lotor’s eyes had strayed from his mother to land on Allura. She felt the heaviness of the gaze on her heart. “If only you had known this earlier. . . Perhaps Zarkon. . .” She choked. “Nevermind that now. It’s finished. I must tell you of some misconceptions.”

“Misconceptions?”

“Why do you think Zarkon wanted the black lion?”

“Well. . . “ Allura began. “To go into the rift to gather quintessence, I assume. And apparently to destroy Oriande.” Honerva shook her head.

“You got one part right. But Zarkon doesn’t— _didn’t_ need what he already had. He desired to travel to other realities.”

Lotor choked on his drink. “Travel to other realities? Why would he desire such a thing, and why was no one else aware of this?”

“His one desire was to just go home again. Perhaps it would not be the same, that is true, but he always thought there was a world where he could rule the planet he grew up on.”

“But. . . why?”

“It was like instinct. Even I felt it but towards Zarkon. He breathed life into me, after all. . .” She looked away rather longingly. “It is why we searched for Oriande for so long. It is also a gateway.”

“Oriande?” Allura asked. “There is yet another opening inside it?”

“Yes, but it’s formed from the high concentration of magic, while the other was spawned by a white hole. There are multiple breaches across the galaxy. It is still unknown if these are whole separate worlds next to ours, or if they are simply so far away even our wormholes alone cannot reach them.”

“I see,” Allura said. “You, er, _Haggar_ claimed that she had been to Oriande before. If that is true, why did Zarkon not cross over then?”

“While it’s true we went to Oriande, there are places inside there that we could not enter. It was forbidden by some sort of god, presumably something akin to your white lion. Our quintessence-ridden bodies simply couldn’t pass. I tried for half a decapheeb, but it was useless.” Allura distantly recalled Haggar’s interrogation questions, _how do I enter Oriande?_ and _Then how have I been there already?_

“If it was Zarkon’s wish, why did you attempt it for so long?”

“I wanted to see the Lifegivers.” Allura’s breath caught. “Even then, I thought. . . perhaps they could restore Zarkon and me to our previous lives. As I am now. My theory was not entirely too far-fetched.”

“No,” Allura said. “I suppose it was not.” A heavy silence fell. Lotor was unable to initiate meaningful conversation with his mother, the concept too far away from anything he’d ever conceived and Honerva herself was also very distant, a mother who had never known what it was to truly be one. “He called for you,” Allura whispered. Honerva snapped back to attention.

“What?”

“I saw him. . . somewhere. It felt like a different existence, a new place. But still, he searched for you.”

“And I was not there.” Allura shook her head.

“Don’t worry,” She looked to Lotor, who looked back like a puppy who did not yet know what it was to be scolded. “It’s not your fault.” She gave a terse, tight-lipped smile.

“Anyways,” Allura says. “If the energy can heal people, perhaps it can heal other things as well.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I am saying that maybe the rift truly can be sealed while opening the way to Patrulian energy and putting away all methods of crossing realities. For good. ” Honerva shrugs.

“With your Altean Patrulian energy, there is no telling what all can be accomplished. No matter how much time I have, it’s never enough to learn everything.” Allura hated to admit it, but she relished the idea that something of Altean culture could potentially fix everything that had been torn apart.

“So, you said you had a hypothesis, correct?” Honerva narrowed her eyes.

“Correct.”

“And you have already done your data collecting, which means that the next course of action, if I am not mistaken, is to conduct an experiment.”

“So you’re saying we should do it.”

“I am saying there is no other option but to try.” She sat back on her palms, cocked her head.  
“That means we will have to go to the rift. To Diabazaal.” Allura swallows and nods, but Honerva is no longer looking at her. She is looking at Lotor.

“Yes,” Allura says. Honerva thinks for a moment and then nods.

“We will finally find the answers we’ve been looking for. And retribution for what was done to our planet.” Her contrasting motivations were very strange to Allura, but she would not question it. The fact that she remained sane after all that had been done to her was enough, even though she had an odd sort of hunger to her eyes, but maybe it was only her eagerness to get back to science and productiveness. Idle minds were what drove one mad. “Lotor, are you ready to go home?” Honerva asks when an Arusian enters the room. They take Allura’s cup into their tiny hands before refilling it.

“May I read your fortune, miss?” Allura nods. They swish around the dregs for a moment before speaking. “I see a great serpent or a long journey. Great celestial bodies, though they are rather close to the rim, which indicates they will occur soon. However. . .” The Arusian picks up the saucer. “How did so many leaves end up outside your cup?” Allura rubs her neck embarrassingly.

“Ah, my table manners must be dulling.”

“Do not worry, lion goddess. That means that they will not happen at all.” The Arusian smiles and moves to refill the glass.

“Or,” Honerva says. “It means it will occur not in this timeline.” The room goes silent until Lotor moves abruptly, his hand swinging across the table until knocking his cup to the floor, clinking against the soft dirt, its contents spilling out.

“I apologize, that was my mistake,” Lotor says, flustered, attempting to scoop up the mess.

“Oh no, I can’t read your fortune now,” The Arusian frowns.

### 


	19. Purple

###### Breathe You In - Trophy Eyes

 _There_ _’_ _s nothing out there. Its just us._

“Uh. . . Vakala, think we oughta come back later?” Keith and Lance shot up, all grogginess washed away instantly. Keith moves quickly into a defensive position, despite his injuries protests.

“Who the hell are you and why are we here?” He had been too exhausted before to go snooping around, and now his rational mind was coming to realize that had been a bad move. They had both left themselves vulnerable, but now his energy had been restored and he found it was slightly warmer inside the cavern than it had been outside. Or maybe it was just Lance that was warm.

“We should be askin’ you that, Galra scum!” There were two of them, the one who had spoken first was bigger than the other, with a short mustache and goggles and dog-like ears. The other was shorter and skinnier, and had tiny sprouts of fur coming from the sides of his mouth, but they were both very. . . blue.

“Hey now, Remdax,” Vakala, the small one, said. “Don’t provoke them. We should really fix our bondage system.” Remdax scratched his head.

“What makes you think I’m Galra?” Keith’s breath was a cloud in front of him. Most of his thoughts were aimed to making sure he did not visibly shiver. He felt the hot envy towards their heavy, thick furs and pelts deep inside him.

“What d’ya think, we’re idiots?” Remdax said.

“If the shoe fits,” Lance mumbled. The two narrowed their eyes.

“We found you with Galra armor,” Vakala said. “And you have the mark.” Keith furrowed his eyebrows.

“Mark?”

“Yeh, mark of the beast,” Remdax chuckled.

“Don’t play stupid, kid,” said Vakala. “We’ve seen your neck.”

“My—?”

“Keith,” Lance said from behind him. He realized now that he had been standing the whole time. “Move your hair.” Keith finds that fear is creeping up inside of him, leaving his legs feeling tingly. Lance does not wait for Keith to move, instead taking his own hand and sweeping away the long hair at the nape of his neck. “Holy cheese,” Lance whispers.

“What?” Keith says, looking back at Lance’s expression self-consciously. “What is it?”

“It. . . It looks like a purple tattoo, man. It’s a big sort of slash.” Lance jerks his hand away. “How did you not know that was there?! Do you have an extra toe, too?”

“Well how often do you look at the back of your own neck, Lance!” He huffs.

“You weren’t born with that cursed mullet! Somebody must have known, and people aren’t born with purple birthmarks!”

“Why are you yelling at me, like it’s my fault?” The two knock heads.

“Because it is!” Lance shouts back, an echo in the small cave.

Remdax and Vakala exchange looks. “Again, should we come back later?” Lance and Keith turn on them in unison.

“No!” The two aliens stand very stiffly.

Keith turns back to Lance. “What are you getting at, anyway?”

“Every time I feel like I know you,” Lance says. “You do a 180 and you feel like a stranger again.”

“Well what if I don’t know myself, Lance? Did that ever occur to you?” Keith retorts, nostrils flaring. Lance’s expression falls, looking wounded.

“You’re right,” He says. “I just. . . Want to know you,” Lance whispers.

Remdax whispers to Vakala, “Should we gag ‘em?” Keith lowers his eyes on them.

“If you touch him, you’ll regret it.” Remdax chuckles.

“What’re you gonna do? Headbutt us?”

Lance speaks, moving to Keith’s side to back him up. “He may be Galra, but I’m 100 percent human. Do you know what we can do?”

“Vakala,” Remdax whispers behind a poorly concealing hand. “What’s a human?” Vakala looks thoughtful.

“We humans have very special calling abilities. If one of us is in danger, we can signal the rest of the pack, like wolves.” Lance bares his teeth.

Remdax asks, “Like what?”

“Who cares?” Vakala squeaks. “Can they really do that?”

“Dunno, but neither of you better not make no sudden moves!” Remdax aims his blaster towards them, but he’s having trouble aiming, the barrel swerving between the two. Suddenly Keith is laughing, hysterical with it, doubling over and clutching his chest. He’s wiping at tears in his eyes when Lance begins laughing too, slapping Keith on the back, the absurdity of it all coming down on them, and they feel almost delirious with the laughter, a feeling they had almost forgotten. Keith’s chest is filled with warmth.

“Quit laughin’!” Remdax exclaims. “Is he doin’ it now? Is he callin’ the rest?” Vakala looks at them with quizzical eyes.

“Nah, no way. The last human never said anything about a call, they’re bluffing.” Keith and Lance quit laughing and straighten up.

“Wait, what human?” Keith asks. Remdax looks back at Vakala, who ignores him and answers.

“Said his name was Shiro. Claimed he was a Paladin of Voltron.”

Remdax huffed. “Probably a buncha malarky.” Lance’s hand fell comfortingly on Keith’s upper back.

“Did he say Shiro?” Keith whispered. “Our Shiro?”

Remdax said, “How many Shiro’s are there?”

Vakala shrugged. “Just the one, I think.” He rubbed his chin.

Keith cleared his throat. “Anyway,” He says. “How did he get out of here?” A whole chapter of Shiro’s life he had never even mentioned. Had he thought it unimportant, or was it all too awful to bring himself to talk about? Either way, Keith was following right in his footsteps.

“Well. . .” Vakala hesitates. “We, uh, we helped him. Gave him one of our shuttles.”

“We been tryna get offa this planet ever since,” Remdax adds.

“What can we do to prove we’re paladins of Voltron?” Keith asked. He could never imagine what Shiro must have done while so far, far away. Remdax and Vakala look to each other and then, ultimately, shrug.

“S’pose you could get one of those lions of yours here,” Remdax says. Lance’s hand tightens on Keith’s shoulder, and then he nods.

“We can do it,” Lance says, much to Keith’s dismay.

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“I’m sure of us,” said Lance, and smiles to him. Grudgingly, Keith agrees. But he finds that he’s feeling hopeful, too.

The trek back to the lake was difficult, to say the least. Vakala gave Keith some salve for his wounds, which felt like magic frostbite was coming from his fingers when he’d glazed it over the skin that was struggling to mend itself back together. It had formed something sort of like a web over it, pinching the tissue to force the skin to re-knit. After, they were given a moment of privacy to put their armor back on. It had been. . . tense, to say the least. They had faced opposite corners and pretended like it didn’t feel somewhat scandalous now.

Keith was practically dead weight under Lance’s arm. He dragged his leg behind them, with Vakala and Remdax following closely behind, guarding both Keith and Lance from outside forces as much as guarding themselves from Keith and Lance. They approached the lake, and Keith felt a shiver go down his spine.

“How is this thing not frozen over?” He mumbled.

“Alright,” Vakala said, nudging them forward. “We can’t stay out here long. Do your thing.” Keith and Lance glanced quickly at each other.

“Riiiight,” Lance said. “Um. . .” He put both of his fingers into his mouth and let out a sharp dog whistle. “Here, kitty kitty. . .” He began patting his thighs.

“Lance,” Keith said sharply. “Quick messing around.”

“I’m buying us time.”

“Time until what? They push us in?”

“Until that mudcrab over there gets us.” Keith looked angrily down towards Lance.

“Are you joking right now? Seriously, there’s a time for jokes and time for—”

“Get ready to move,” Lance said, and just then, what Keith had sworn was just a boulder __emerged__. It’s head came out, a thing nothing short of nightmares following a quick watch of Alien vs. Predator, and then long, spindly legs extended outwards, like a squid on stilts. “That is __not__ a mudcrab,” Lance said, shoving Keith’s body to the ground with his own.

“Time to go, Remdax!” The two began scurrying away, grabbing the attention of the monster. It flooded over Keith and Lance’s bodies, going bullet fast for Vakala and Remdax, whose shots penetrated but did not faze. It continued on with mindless, vicious intent.

Lance jumped away from Keith and to the waters edge, coming to rest on his knees and making prayer hands.

“Come on, Blue!” Lance shouted. “You’re my number one, my one and only, my sugar honey iced tea. . .”

“Is this your plan? Flirt with the dirt?” Remdax, Vakala and the squid-thing were running laps behind them.

“Yes, and you should be too!” Keith scoffed.

“What!” Lance leveled a serious look on Keith, whose mouth had fallen open. Resolutely, he fell to his knees beside Lance, in begging. He cleared his throat.

“Hey, __girl__. . .” He began unsteadily. “Do you have advanced radiation poisoning? Because you’re glowing,” Keith said through gritted teeth.

And Lance was laughing. It was a sudden, enchanting thing that had Keith’s cheeks heating up. “You’re not any better, loverboy.” Suddenly Lance stopped laughing, eyes catching Keith’s intensely. They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s gazes in the midst of the commotion, until they heard Remdax calling to them, far away.

Their heads jerked up. Lance’s bayard was in his hand in an instant, forming the red sword whereas Keith’s familial blade slide into his.

“What!” Vakala shouted. “They had __those__?!” The monster was heading towards them, charging like an enraged bull to where Keith and Lance stood confidently ready to cut it off at the heels, when it came to an animated stop.

It’s legs wobbled, and the boy’s hunched stance turned into something confused. The monster fled in a wide arc around them and plunged head first into the water’s deep.

When the two turned around, there was a lion larger than no other looking back at them. And it was purple.


End file.
